


You're Cold (I'm Cold Too)

by cellwright



Series: Keeping Warm [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Background Relationships, Fluff, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Makoto/Haru, Mentions of past child abuse, Multi, Secrets, Undercover, ann/shiho - Freeform, mentions of minor character death, yusuke/mishima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellwright/pseuds/cellwright
Summary: Ryuji is sent to investigate a failing inn owned by the company he worked for with orders to report back to corporate with a decision to close it or not— He didn't plan on falling for the owner, though.christmas hallmark movie but pegoryu.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Keeping Warm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062854
Comments: 63
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a quick disclaimer, I don't celebrate Christmas on the 25th (I celebrate on Jan 7th), I just thought this was appropriate for the Hallmark trope-y premise of the fic, so happy holidays! 
> 
> This is a countdown to Christmas, with a new chapter being uploaded every day and chapter 12 being uploaded on Christmas morning :-) 
> 
> Please kudos, comment, share with a friend if you enjoy!! It would mean a lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This began as an idea to write a gift for some friends on twitter and then spiraled into a full story and the countdown idea... Gotta love the holiday season.

Ryuji Sakamoto did not like Christmas. 

He wasn’t a grinch by any means— As much as the overly advertised holiday festivities wore him out, he didn’t wish for anyone not to feel the spirit of the season. It was purely a him problem. 

His complicated relationship with Christmas began as many of his other problems did: his father. 

The bastard loved the holidays. It gifted him a week off of work and a Christmas bonus, none of which went to paying the bills or putting food on the table. For Ryuji and his mother, it was a week spent trying their hardest to steer clear of the bastard's drunken tantrums when he needed something to take his frustrations out on, but… Well, they never got the Christmas miracle they needed to succeed. 

After every winter break, Ryuji would return to school sporting faded bruises under his long sleeves and uniform pants, a stark contrast to the various cool gifts his classmates would show off to their friends. 

As the bow on top of the present, it had somehow gotten worse.

Ryuji was thirteen. He remembered the exact moment clearly. He woke up on Christmas morning as unexcited as he was every year, ready to shuffle into the living room, receive a pity present from his father to make up for everything he made Ryuji and his mother endure, and hide out in his room for the rest of the day.

Instead, Ryuji was met with the sight of two police officers quietly speaking to his mom, who was huddled on the couch with her head in her hands. The officers lifted their heads at his arrival, but their grave expressions did not bid well for him as Ryuji’s mom called him over to sit next to her. 

The bastard died. On Christmas morning. 

Apparently the man had the idea to go out early in the morning and took the car with him, which only resulted in an unfortunate slide over a patch of black ice coating the road, the car wrapped around a telephone pole, and immediate death upon impact. 

Ryuji couldn’t remember the rest of that day after he was informed of the news, though years have passed and he still spent late nights plagued with the matter at mind. It wasn’t that he was upset the bastard died; He had it coming for him, really. It was more so that it was the easy way out: Mr. Sakamoto wasn’t rotting away in a jail cell, forced to live with the grief he’d caused his son and wife. He left Ryuji and his mom to deal with the payment of a new car and an empty funeral, left them to pick up the pieces of their lives when he wasn’t even the one holding them together. 

And even then, it wasn’t enough to escape the abuse. The general dread that shrouded the holiday season wasn’t something that could have been shaken off easily despite years of adjusting to a life without Ryuji’s father. It wasn’t that it felt wrong to celebrate, but rather that there was no need to celebrate anything in the first place. Christmas was spoiled the moment Ryuji understood that all it offered was more hiding from daddy, and it was difficult to find much reason to reinvigorate a spirit he’d never felt in the first place when it would never be the same, not like how it was in the feel-good movies that circulated on TV all of December (and November. And a short period in July). 

Afterwards, every holiday season in the Sakamoto household was spent in quiet that rivaled the snow dusted streets outside, desperately avoiding all memory of  _ him _ . On Christmas, Ryuji and his mom would exchange a gift or two, watch a movie if they could stand the thought of it, and order take out for dinner. 

Things usually looked up around the end of the year. It was Christmas when they let themselves wallow, but trips to the temple on New Years signified new beginnings better than ever.

The tradition held out even when Ryuji was out of high school. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he got by enough to get himself through college, enough to land a half-decent office job he didn’t hate too much when he graduated and moved out. In another universe, he might have been able to do something bigger, learn a more valuable lesson in it all, but growing up with his father meant not being allowed to do anything that wasn’t father-approved. Maybe he could have been an Olympic runner like he dreamed of as a kid, or something— anything a little more interesting than a nine to five, beige work pants and uncomfortable shoes. 

Ryuji ended up working for a hotel and inn management company. It wasn’t the worst, especially considering he worked in the corporate office building and not in a hotel, motel,  _ or  _ inn, but being a newbie to the company was cause for him to get the brunt of the dirty work that his high up coworkers were too lazy to deal with themselves. Most days Ryuji felt like an intern again, but the pay covered rent and the cost of groceries, so he couldn’t complain. 

❄

It was two weeks before Christmas, only a few days before they were going to be given time off to celebrate the holidays. Ryuji had fully grown tired of the corporate Christmas of the city, the commodification of every single thing feel good aspect surrounding it. He couldn’t walk outside without being bombarded with obnoxiously flashy red and green advertisements for gifts that were definitely overpriced, with movies that were definitely more cheesy and worse than the last overdone Christmas flick. If he had to listen to another Christmas song cover playing in a store, each worse and more “unique” in an effort to stand out from the millions of other bad covers, he’d lose his mind. 

For his break, Ryuji just wanted to be left alone in peace. No responsibilities, no work— he wanted to escape it all for a few days and relax for once. 

And as always, nothing went Ryuji’s way when he needed it to. 

It was nearing the end of the work day, and Ryuji was ready as ever for the clock to strike five so he could get the hell out of there. His work bag was already packed and tucked under his desk so he could leave as soon as he could and find an empty seat in the train home. He shifted in his chair, clicking a pen and doodling on a post-it note to feign some semblance of being busy in his cubicle, but a knock came on the thin divider before he could power off his desktop. 

Ryuji tried to not look exasperated when he lifted his head at his coworker timidly hovering over him. He wasn’t one to pray, but he asked some god in the sky to throw him a bone and not be asked to do some last minute work. 

“Yeah?” 

“Um, the boss just asked you to see her in her office.” 

“...Did I do something?” 

“I’m not sure, she didn’t say, but she looked pretty serious about it.” 

Ryuji sighed, “Man, alright. Thanks.” 

His coworker nodded and shuffled away, leaving Ryuji to wonder what the boss could have possibly needed from him at the tail end of the day. Always fearing the worst, he thought that he couldn’t have been getting fired so close to the holidays, could he?

…It wasn’t like he  _ couldn’t. _

Ryuji threw his bag and coat over his arm and made haste with getting to the hallway where all the high up offices were. If he was in trouble, he didn’t want to piss his boss off more than he might have already done, but he couldn’t think of a single misdemeanor he could have possibly made in the past couple of months. He snatched a couple of pens from the supply closet when no one was looking, but  _ everyone  _ did that.... Oh, god. Ryuji was going to get fired over a pen. 

He knocked on the door and hesitantly opened it when he got a  _ come in  _ from inside. 

The woman didn’t look angry, but something about her appearance at her desk exuded a frazzled energy. She had multiple pieces of paper spread out on her desk, some with colorful lines of charts and others with long columns of what looked like financials, and threads of hair from her normally-tight bun were falling around her worn face. 

“Please sit, Sakamoto.” 

Ryuji dropped his bag on the side of the chair that was positioned in front of her desk and sat, fiddling with the jacket he draped over his arm. His mind raced in baseless anxiety, speedrunning through every awkward interaction he might have had with a coworker, if he said something odd and got reported to HR. The problem was, Ryuji barely talked to anyone, he couldn’t have said anything dumb by accident! He had no idea— 

His boss cleared her throat, effectively pausing the quickening spiral of Ryuji’s thoughts. 

“Sakamoto, I’ve called you in here… Well, it’s a little last minute, but after a few discussions with HR—” 

Oh god, there it was. Ryuji  _ did  _ say something stupid. 

“— we’ve elected you to send on an on-field assignment next week.”

It took a moment for Ryuji to absorb that he  _ wasn’t  _ getting fired, before realizing… “During our days off?” 

He blurted it out without much thought and was ready to apologize, but his boss sighed before he could get a word out. She took off her glasses to wearily rub at her eyes— she looked as exhausted as Ryuji felt. “Yes, it’s rather unfortunate, but we come across a rather troublesome predicament with one of the files in our system that needs immediate attention.”

“...Predicament,” Ryuji tried to follow. She lost him at troublesome. 

“While reviewing the reports from the year, someone pointed out that the files for an inn in a town named Inaba have been wiped completely. We’re running an investigation to single out the cause, but the last bit of information anyone can remember about it is that it hasn’t been doing so well in recent years.” 

“Right,” Ryuji said, but he was still a little confused. “I’m not sure where I come into this.” 

His boss, bless her, looked too tired to grow annoyed with his questions. “Well, we’d like for you to investigate the inn firsthand and send back a detailed report of its happenings in case we aren’t able to find the files. If it’s numbers are doing as badly as we remember, it’ll have to be shut down before the end of the quarter.” 

Ryuji slowly nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure why he specifically was chosen, but he thought to ask, “When will the investigation be?” 

His boss must have expected the question, but she winced at it anyways. “You’ll arrive on the nineteenth and leave on the twenty-sixth— but! All expenses, influencing room service, will be paid, and you’ll get a New Years bonus to compensate for your time.” 

It was a lot to take in at the moment, but his brain immediately went into overdrive weighing the pros and cons. “Can I give you an answer tomorrow?” 

She looked relieved that Ryuji wasn’t outright declining. “Certainly. We’re aware it’s a lot to ask considering it’s the holidays, but absolutely has to be done before the new year. An email with all the specifics will be sent to you by six. You may go, thank you.” 

Ryuji bowed before leaving, mind already plenty busy thinking about what the assignment could have entailed as he navigated his way out of the building. 

Like always, Ryuji would have to call his mom before making a decision. 

✴

“I dunno Ma, I’m not sure…” 

Ryuji relaxed into his couch, laptop carefully balanced on his legs as he held a steaming ramen cup in his hands, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear. 

“It sounds like a good opportunity!” Mama Sakamoto cheered from the other line. “It’s a paid vacation! You get some peace in the mountains, get to clear your head a little, it’ll be a nice change of pace.” 

Ryuji sighed, “I guess, but I don’t wanna miss Christmas with you.” 

“Hon, you know how Christmas is…” she said, tone morphed into something considerably softer. Even in his mid twenties, Ryuji would go over to his mom's apartment for the same Christmas routine they’d had since Ryuji was in middle school. 

“Still, I don’t wanna leave ya all alone.” 

“I’ll be just fine, always am. I last for the rest of the year, don’t I?” 

Ryuji sputtered over his ramen. “I visit all the time!” 

Mama Sakamoto’s laugh was bright on the muffled line, and Ryuji huffed along in amusement with her. She slowly died down, but quieted in a sudden thought. “Why’d they choose you for the trip anyways?”

Ryuji leaned back in thought. “Tch, Luna from accounting asked if I was single when we were in the break room the other day— Must’ve needed to know if I was gonna be with someone for Christmas.” 

The notion threw Mama Sakamoto into another round of quiet laughter. “Either way— I really think you should take the opportunity. If the place is as bad as they say, you write a report saying it doesn’t meet your standards for the company, and you get all the room service you want on a company card.” 

“Ma, it’s hard to believe people thought  _ I  _ was the one who caused problems at school, you’re a menace,” Ryuji said in complete disbelief. His mom was clever when she needed to make up a scheme on the spot, especially when it came to helping Ryuji. 

Ryuji hummed, aware that he was going to get premature wrinkles if he kept furrowing his brows so hard. “Mmm… Alright, I’ll do it.” 

“And who knows,” Mama Sakamoto’s voice was sly, as if she’d had the thought on her mind the entire time. “Maybe you can find a nice country girlfriend for you up there.” 

“ _ Ma. _ ”

“Or a boyfriend! Either is fine!” 

“ _ Maaa. _ ”

She was ever her cheery self, as long as it took her to bounce back after the bastard died, and Ryuji couldn’t help but enjoy it even if it was at his expense in the moment. When she calmed down from her giggles once more, she said, “I’m joking, but… I’m glad you’re going. Just take plenty of pictures for me, alright?” 

“I will, I promise. I’ll respond to the email right now and accept, I’ll call ya tomorrow.” 

“Alright hon, I have some dramas waiting for me tonight anyways. I love you.” 

“Love ya too, Ma.” 

Ryuji let his phone fall onto the couch cushions as the call ended, easing his shoulders back with a long sigh. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was getting himself into, but spending his break in what was probably a run down inn in the mountains sounded like the most boring company trip of a lifetime. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the first chapter! I'll see you tomorrow if you're planning on keeping up <3
> 
> Also also also, I'm only using Inaba because I needed town name, but in no way is it similar to p4 Inaba in people or appearance lol


	2. Chapter 2

On the nineteenth of December, Ryuji’s train was set to leave almost as soon as he was supposed to leave work, and the measly half hour he was granted to leave early was barely enough time to get back to his apartment, change, and pick up his bags. So, Mama Sakamoto was in charge of dropping Ryuji off at the station on time, having already come by to Ryuji’s apartment the evening before to pick up his suitcase and store it in her car in preparation. 

Ryuji clocked out the moment the minute hand indicated it was 4:30, warranting a couple of jealous looks from his surrounding coworkers for getting the opportunity to go on a paid vacation for Christmas, but it was far from vacation in Ryuji’s eyes. It was work through and through, with fancy wrapping paper that was “all expenses paid” slapped onto what was probably a run down, desolate inn somewhere high up and lifetimes away from a chain store. Why couldn’t have he been sent to a two star hotel somewhere warm like Hawaii? He would have taken that over more winter cold. 

City winters were drafty as best, maybe a little biting at worst. Ryuji always thought that it was the high buildings that did something to shield the severeness of the winter wind, but it didn’t do anything for the barely there snow that dusted over the streets every couple of years. 

Ryuji had spent his entire life in the city, but he figured that he couldn’t have gone wrong with packing all of his long sleeved shirts, some high school hoodies, and woolen socks his mom gifted him a few years back. 

However, as he exited the office building and ran over to where Mama Sakamoto was parked out front, he realized that it might have been smart to carry a pair of gloves and some earmuffs too. His fingers went rigid against the cold exterior of the door handle when he got to the passenger seat and sat down. 

“Hon! You ready?” Mama Sakamoto greeted as he lugged his work backpack over his lap. “Tell me you’re not wearing  _ that  _ jacket to the mountains.” 

“What? What’s wrong with it?” Ryuji looked down at the black peacoat he’d been wearing forever. It wasn’t the most practical, but it kept him warm enough in the winter and was by far his most comfortable piece of outerwear. 

She exasperatedly asked, “What happened to the puffy jacket hung next to your door?” 

“I, uh— I forgot it. But it’ll be fine! How cold could it be?” 

“Ryuji! Do you know how freezing it gets in higher elevations? You’re going into the mountains!” 

“Uh.” 

“You only have that beanie? You’re gonna freeze…” she berated, but unwinded the maroon scarf draped around her shoulders and leaned over to throw it around Ryuji’s neck. “Buy some gloves when you’re up there, alright? Can’t have my son frozen on vacation.” 

“Okay, okay, I will, thank you. Now c’mon, I don’t wanna be late.” 

❄

With a promise to buy gloves as soon as he could and even more promises to at least  _ try  _ to have fun, Ryuji boarded the train set to send him up north. It was one of those trains designed to accommodate its passengers for extended voyages, which offered Ryuji a relatively empty train car and a seat with a table in front of him, right at the end of the cart where it met a wall. There was enough room to stretch his legs and store his bags under the table, at least. 

Ryuji decided to pass some time of his three hour trip by looking over the specifics of his assignment for the upteenth time and pulled his laptop out of his company issued bag. 

It was fairly simple, as it was all the other times Ryuji read the entire set of instructions. He had to pretend to be a guest at the inn he was being sent to, take every opportunity to explore the facility and the best service package they offered, take plenty of pictures, and send back a detailed report of his findings and opinion on the place. The goal was for him to experience the inn without the influence of it being an investigation, and while Ryuji supposed it made sense, it left him to have to figure out how to explain why he was going up to a snowy inn in the mountains during Christmas time, all alone. Like a complete loser. 

He’d survive. It wasn’t as if he was planning on returning to Inaba after he left on December 26th anyways, so any dignity he lost by embarrassing himself wouldn’t have mattered. 

There wasn’t anything to read that he hadn’t already looked over. It was as straightforward as any assignment could have been, and Ryuji had already written plenty of reports during his time with the company, so that aspect wasn’t an issue. Ryuji resignedly sighed and put his laptop away when it didn’t offer him anything else of interest to pass the time, choosing instead to entertain himself with the view staring him down. 

On the train wall in front of him stared down a large poster advertising women's perfume, featuring a pretty blonde woman.  _ Ann Takamaki,  _ was the name of the model, which was written in small text at the bottom of the advert. Normally Ryuji wouldn’t have given it a second of glance, but he suspected he had plenty of time to get familiar with his surroundings for the rest of the voyage. 

At least he then had  _ two  _ views for the rest of the… two hours and forty minutes. 

The steady gradation from city to suburb to countryside occurred outside his window before Ryuji realized it. He had grown up in the city and never had a reason to leave, so he didn’t. There were no far off relatives to visit when they didn’t exist or taking vacations when they couldn’t afford them; the most exciting place his mom took him in middle school was the amusement park. 

Maybe it would do him some good, inhaling air that wasn’t riddled with car exhaust and sound pollution like he was used to. He wasn’t sure how he’d fare sleeping somewhere he’d assume would be far quieter than the sirens and busy streets that served as his lullabies at home, but Ryuji took life at a relatively slow pace as it was and hoped it would translate to a new environment. He’d live for those six days. He wasn’t expecting to be up to anything but writing up a report on Christmas morning anyways. 

The rock of the train car wasn’t enough to soothe him to sleep, but it was easy to zone out admiring the scenery outside. As close-knit neighborhoods transformed into stretched fields, swaths of snow began to rush past the window and soon turned the passing ground white. The train moved too quickly for the snow falling to look like anything but a tinted blur, but it was still the most snow Ryuji had seen since a blizzard hit Tokyo when he was a kid.

The temperature in the train remained at the same toasty level, but as it began winding up the mountains, the windows began to frost at the edges. 

❄

It was fucking  _ cold.  _ It was glacial— frigid—whatever strong word Ryuji’s mom would have wanted him to use instead of cursing. 

If Ryuji had packed his bag at  _ any  _ other time than right before he collapsed into sleep after a tough day of work, he would have had the hindsight and regular critical thinking skills to deduce that, but he procrastinated on packing his things at the very last minute and here he was— Standing in the middle of a train station in the middle of nowhere huffing warm air into his fingers in an attempt to regain some of the feeling in them while he waited for his cab to arrive. Apparently, Inaba wasn’t even directly accessible from the station— no wonder no one visited the inn anymore, it was a pain to get anywhere near it. 

Ryuji’s mood had soured considerably when a run down cab he waited an hour for deposited him in the center of town, the driver having said something about icy roads not being able to safely take him any further. 

On top of it, the town square Ryuji was left in was… festive. 

Too festive. 

It was a Christmas card’s wet dream, the quaint little thing. The roads were all cobblestone and a rather large Christmas tree stood smack dab in the center of the square. Surrounding it was a myriad of twinkling lights adorning every small shop and building, accompanied with plenty of thick tinsel, green garlands, red bows, and every other spirited decoration that could have been hung up. 

It was a Christmas town if Ryuji had ever seen one. And he was already sick of it. 

The long trip there, the cold— Ryuji was completely over it. As hard as he tried not to get bitter over others happiness about the holidays, there were moments where he couldn’t help it. Like when he felt his finger tips were going to fall off, and he swore he could  _ feel  _ the snow piling onto his eyelashes, and the rare passerby that crossed him on his trudge to the inn seemed so damn cheerful despite it all. 

Ryuji pulled his phone out with numb hands as he navigated out of the square and into another street to confirm he was heading in the right direction before continuing his trek. At least the snow that fuzzied the sidewalk hadn’t sloshed over like it would have in the city; Ryuji couldn’t remember a time that he’d seen truly fresh snow that wasn’t hardened with dirt and yellowed with… well. 

He got lingering glances from every person he passed by, whether they spotted them from inside their shops or were walking by on their own journey. Ryuji had a feeling it had been a while since Inaba had seen many fresh faces, and he stuck out like a sore thumb tugging his suitcase along behind him. 

By the time Ryuji made it out of the road shaded by buildings on either side, he was following up the side of one that led even higher up the mountain. The road itself was too icy to risk following up so he had to go up the side of it, but Ryuji had already lost feeling in the limbs that mattered to dwell on it. His work shoes did nothing to keep wet snow from seeping through its crevices and his feet were frozen over completely, he was sure of it. 

It was fine. He was fine. 

After passing what he was sure were the last of the evergreens lining the road, Ryuji finally made it to where the map on his phone told him was the inn. He crossed over the grass onto the cobblestone that extended into a small parking lot and gazed up at the admittedly charming building. It’s wooden exterior added to the quaintness of it all, and its sloped tiled roof set it apart from what Ryuji expected to be a run-down motel. The auburn lights that glowed from inside the frosted windows on both floors did all the convincing Ryuji needed to make the journey somewhat worth it, especially if it was as warm and inviting as it looked on the outside. 

He tore his eyes away and lugged himself and his suitcase over the small parking lot and to the front door, conveniently marked with a sign that said  _ Entrance.  _ Did Ryuji need to write that down for the report? Shit, he should have taken a picture… Too late for that, another time. 

Ryuji was right: It was warm as hell inside. The bell above the door jingled when he walked in, which he noticed immediately caught the attention of two women sitting in the common area to his immediate right. 

The entire space was lit up golden with candles that were clustered on every table and shelf available. Large couches were crowded around an active fireplace, one of which was occupied by the two women, which all neighbored a Christmas tree that was  _ definitely  _ larger than necessary. Somehow, it was still decorated to the nines with every shiny ornament and trinket imaginable, bright enough for Ryuji to need to revert his eyes from it. The area itself was larger than it looked, sporting high ceilings that gave view to the stairs and banister in the back that Ryuji assumed lead to a portion of the rooms on the second floor. The entire place looked to be of a higher class than what Ryuji was told was an inn with declining numbers. He briefly considered having gotten the wrong address. 

Ryuji had to force himself to stop gawking at the place and kicked the snow off his shoes before looking forward to where the check-in desk was at the back of the room. He was considerably happier to have been there now that he wasn’t worried about losing circulation in his limbs because of the cold, but the same festivity that crowded the Christmas tree bombarded him with every other aspect of the inn that was decorated on his way to the desk. 

The thick computer on the counter in front of Ryuji was ancient, and seemingly the only one available to help him. He tapped the  _ ring for assistance  _ bell next to it instead.

Immediately there came a loud thud from under the counter, followed by a muffled, “Oh for fuck’s sake Futaba, I told you—” 

The owner of the voice rose from where they were knelt under the desk, rubbing the back of their head and—

_ Oh no.  _

_ He was pretty.  _

Ryuji felt a little starstruck at the realization, enough to forget the guy just dropped an F-bomb on a guest and wonder if it would have to be put in the report. 

The man— he had to have been around the same age as Ryuji— with unruly black hair and a large sweater over his turtleneck was currently babbling out an apology upon the realization that Ryuji was not in fact this Futaba he cursed at. 

“Oh my g— I’m so sorry! I thought you were— well—” the man stuttered, grappling for any semblance of dignity he could possibly preserve in front of a guest. His large glasses had slid down his nose and were currently fighting for purchase, but the man nervously pushed them back up and bowed again.

“It’s fine man, I do it all the time. I’m not gonna report ya to the manager.” 

The man eased up at Ryuji’s light tone and sighed in relief. “Well, that’s good, I’m kinda the manager. Or— No, I’m the owner of this place, but nevermind— Welcome! Can I get a name?” 

This guy  _ owned  _ the inn? Ryuji wasn’t one to bet on first impressions, but he wondered if it explained anything about the inn's success. 

“Uh, Sakamoto, for one.” 

The man nodded and got to clacking away at the computer, but he frowned a moment later and clacked a couple more keys. “Sorry, this thing’s old, it’s… something’s updating?” he quieted, muttering more to himself than he was speaking to Ryuji. Then he looked into the common room and called out, “Makoto?” 

The woman with the darker brown hair than the other lifted her head at what Ryuji had to assume was her name. “Yes?”

“When’s Futaba getting back? She said she’d look over this for me ages ago, but we have a guest…” 

“You know how she is, she might have gotten caught up in a stream. Does he have the confirmation details?” 

The man lit up at the suggestion and turned to Ryuji. “Sorry for the inconvenience, do you have your reservation confirmation papers with you?” 

Ryuji, still admittedly a little star struck, nodded and bent down to pull the papers from the front pockets of his work bag. 

While he rustled around for them, the man decided to make small talk. “So, what’s a guy like you doing up in the mountains all by yourself?” 

In hindsight Ryuji would have thought about his words a little more carefully, would have realized that the guy was obviously making a pass at him, but he thought up an excuse for his loneliness on the train and was set on it being his dramatic backstory for the week. He even rehearsed!

He straightened up once he got a hold of the papers and handed them over. “Oh, I was supposed to come up here with my girlfriend, but something came up with her job and she told me to come up here anyways. Said I should live it out for her, at least.” 

The man scanned through the papers, flicking through to find the room details when he nonchalantly said, “Mm, that’s nice. What’s her name?” 

Wh— Who the hell asked for the name of some guy's girlfriend when she wasn’t there? Ryuji had thought up of his story to save face for anyone suspicious about what he was doing all alone, but he hadn’t gone as far as to give his fake girlfriend a  _ name.  _ Even he wasn’t lonely enough to stoop so low. 

He squandered for the first female name he could think of, and blurted out, “Ann.” 

The girl from the poster.  _ Of course.  _

Oh no. The man should  _ not  _ have raised his eyebrows at that. “Oh? I have a friend named Ann, that’s funny.” 

Ryuji nervously laughed, hoping his tone wouldn’t completely give him away. There was no way they were the same Anns, right? He couldn’t have been sussed out this early… right? 

The man cleared his throat and handed Ryuji back his papers, along with a pamphlet and key for his room. 

Ryuji was ready to get out of there before he was asked any more questions he hadn’t thought of an answer to, but his hollow stomach made itself known with a quiet rumble and he quickly asked, “Actually— Do you know where the best place to eat around here is?” 

Before Ryuji could kick himself for asking a stupid question when the man  _ obviously  _ knew places to eat, he was sent a sun shattering smile that made him forget about his idiocy for a second. “I have a free day, and you’re gonna be here for a few days, so how about you get settled in and I can show you around the town later?” 

Ryuji should have declined, he knew that. But…

But the guy owned the place, and if he could get the owner on his side for his report… 

Though, his mind wasn’t on the report when he considered it. The guy knew the town, and damn, he had heard of country boys and their invisible charm but something drew him to the man like a moth to a flame and he knew he didn’t have it in his heart to decline even if he wanted to. 

“Alright, sounds good.” He tried to sound easygoing, but he grew a little tense anticipating for the man to change his mind, or sus him out, or some  _ gotcha!  _ that would embarrass him into staying in his room all week. 

Instead, Ryuji was sent another award winning smile for an award he wasn’t sure he was qualified to receive. The man stuck his hand out for Ryuji to shake. “I’ll see you down here in an hour then, Sakamoto. I’m Akira, by the way.”

“Ryuji’s fine,” Ryuji clarified, and took Akira’s hand. 

God, it was warm. He might have lingered in the handshake for a moment too long, but it zapped heat down his bones and almost made him forget about the cold outside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9 days til Christmas!!

Ryuji was quickly regretting letting Akira take him out on the town. 

It sounded worse than it was, but after Ryuji settled into his surprisingly nice room, Akira knocked on his door an hour later completely bundled up and ready to go. It was a vast contrast to the clothes Ryuji changed into: jeans, a hoodie under his coat, and two pairs of socks under his sneakers. The beanie he wore was still dusted over in snow that decided to stick to it, but it and his scarf would have to suffice until he found some proper warm clothes. 

Soon, Ryuji was back outside the inn after Akira bid a goodbye to the two women in the common area (their names were Makoto and Haru, he learned) and they were on their way back down to the main portion of the town. Snow still fell around them, albeit it was more sparse than what bombarded Ryuji earlier. 

Ryuji found it easier to forget about the cold while Akira talked enough for three people. Snow still seeped through the fabric of his shoes and the biting wind was relentless, but Akira’s voice warmly rumbled as he spoke about Inaba. The town was off to the side and easy to miss on a map, but most everyone who lived there had been there for their entire life. It was an everyone-knew-everyone kind of place, a fact that Ryuji said must have made it difficult to get away with a lot if everyone knew your parents. Akira agreed with a chuckle, and Ryuji was reminded why he really shouldn’t have agreed to this. 

Akira’s laugh was damn addicting. So was the smooth honey pull of his voice, how relaxed he sounded while reciting what felt like the entire history of the town and the people he had grown up with. It was like he had waited for the day for someone to ask him to tell them what he knew and he was laying it all out for Ryuji to enjoy as they made their way into the small streets of the Inaba. 

Ryuji wished he hadn’t used the girlfriend excuse.

But… he shouldn’t have been canoodling on the job. Not when Akira owned the place he was supposed to be doing a full fledged investigation and report on… 

Maybe it was for the best. 

Ryuji lost track of how much they’d walked until Akira stopped in front of a shop. A quick glance through the glass told him it was a bakery, apparently packed to the brim with the most mouth-watering treats and desserts Ryuji had seen in his entire life. 

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, come in,” Akira laughed, already opening the glass door in front that jingled upon their arrival. 

Ryuji only realized how numb he had gotten when he entered the sugar-hazy warmth of the bakery. It was quaint, as was everything inside the town, but cozy in a vintage way that cafes in the city could only dream to replicate. It was fairly busy inside, no doubt filled with people looking to escape the frosty weather, except there was only one woman working behind the long counter. She looked at ease as she rang up another customer and smiled widely when she caught sight of Akira at the entrance. 

“Akira!” she greeted excitedly. Ryuji followed Akira to the counter, only slightly hiding behind him in the wakes of a new person. Akira said it himself, everyone knew everyone, and Ryuji felt horridly out of place already. 

“Hey, Shiho. Busy?” Akira said in her direction, but his eyes were busy skimming on the various treats lined in the glass display. 

“As usual,” Shiho sighed, the loose black bun on the back of her head flopping as she did so. Though, her gaze turned to Ryuji a moment later. “Care to introduce me, Akira?” 

Akira’s attention snapped from a piece of cheesecake on the shelf to Shiho. “What? Oh— Oh man, got distracted by the food. Uh, this is Ryuji! He’s staying in the inn for Christmas.” 

Ryuji nervously smiled at Shiho, too busy trying to rub feeling back into his fingers to shake her hand. “Nice to meet ya.” 

Akira didn’t leave much room for a response as he straightened up and stuffed his hand into his pocket to pull out a wallet. “Screw a diet, gimme a slice of the cheesecake, and— uh, Ryuji, what do you want? Anything at all.” 

“Aw man, you don’t hafta—” 

  
  
“Welcome gift! I told you, we haven’t seen a new face in a while. Besides, everything here is to die for, you’ll regret not getting anything.” 

“Fine, fine.” 

Ryuji ended up ordering a glazed fudge brownie, already content with leaving the town fifteen pounds heavier if it meant eating stupidly delicious baked goods all week. He hovered around Akira as he dug in, trying to catch the falling crumbs in his napkin as Akira and Shiho talked some more. He should have been embarrassed about sticking around Akira like a child attached to their parents legs when meeting someone new, but  _ jesus _ , who thought to put caramel glaze on a brownie? He’d marry them. 

“Ann?” Shiho called out in the direction of the door near the back after kneeling down to see some of the emptier plates at the end of the display. “We’re running out of tarts, how’s that going?” 

Ryuji froze mid-chew at the name. Ann? That was Akira’s other-Ann. 

Ann Takamaki—  _ the girl from the poster—  _ rushed out the doorway with a tray of steaming cookies in her oven mitts and pure panic seized Ryuji’s soul. His automatic response was to try to swallow his bite of brownie as quickly as possible, which only resulted in it shooting down the wrong tube and sending Ryuji into a ( _ very _ ) loud coughing fit because of it. 

It took Akira thumping his back for a minute and a glass of water that Shiho fetched to calm him down enough to blink the tears that had jumped into his eyes from choking. 

“You know, that’s not the first time that’s happened,” Ann stated, humor edging her tone. “Hi! I’m Ann Takamaki.” 

Ryuji wondered if it was too late to pass off the assignment to someone else. He’d embarrassed himself enough for one day and was ready to repack his bags and catch the next train home, report be damned.

“Yeah, I—” he wanted to say that he knew, but realized that he’d have to explain why exactly he did. Instead, he sighed and said, “Uh… nice— nice to meet you.”

She looked prettier than she did on the poster, more down to earth with two long blonde braids cascading over her front, comfy sweater to match. Ryuji’s panic was less of a romantic one and more of an,  _ Oh shit. I fucked up.  _ He didn’t even realize he was staring until someone snapped in his vision, and he was taken out of his internal spiral of surprise to see that all three of them were staring at him.

“What’s with the look? I have a girlfriend, y’know—” Ann jabbed a thumb at Shiho and then crossed her arms. 

  
  
“N-No! That’s not what I— Sorry— I didn’t mean it… like that.”

They all erupted into laughter, and Ryuji couldn’t help but nervously laugh as well, even if it was at his expense. He was truly at a loss for words because he knew what it looked like, but Akira spoke up for him, “He has a girlfriend too, actually, her name’s Ann! Isn’t that funny?” 

Ann didn’t look too offended in the first place, but she finally perked up. “Oh, really? Small world!” 

She placed a final kiss on Shiho’s cheek after organizing all the cookies in the display case and bid Akira and Ryuji a goodbye. 

Thankfully Shiho wasn’t angry that Ryuji looked like he was awestruck at the sight of her pretty girlfriend, but he figured it was because she was used to it. Ann was unfairly gorgeous, Ryuji might have short-circuited under other circumstances. 

Shiho chuckled again. “I’m gonna pretend you choked because of how good that brownie was.” 

“Definitely ‘cause of the brownie- I couldn’t get enough of it. Why did I never think of putting glaze on an effin’ brownie?” 

“I thought of it!” Akira piped up, looking proud of himself. “They had leftover caramel from the donuts, so I started putting it on a bunch of stuff they were testing out and it worked! They’re called ‘Kira Karamel Brownies, but the caramel starts with a K.”

“They’re not called that,” Shiho deadpanned.

  
  
Akira stage-whispered behind his hand to Ryuji, “They’re definitely called that.” 

Shiho rolled her eyes and finally began to shoo them off, insisting she had a bakery to run and as much as she would have liked to stand around and talk with them all evening, more customers were arriving as it fell dark outside. 

Ryuji bid her a goodbye and a final apology before he and Akira stepped outside the bakery and back into the freezing air that came with the disappearance of the sun. The snow fall had slowed to a light dust that caught the light of the streetlamps as they slowly turned on, but there wasn’t an invisible breeze blowing it around for once. 

“I totally embarrassed myself, didn’t I?” Ryuji murmured in amusement as they made their way through the town square that Ryuji was dropped off in a couple of hours prior. It looked different in the dark indigo of the night, a little less garish when the sunlight wasn’t catching every brightly decorated storefront. 

Akira quietly laughed, “Maybe a little bit, but Ann and Shiho are really nice. They’ll only tease you about it… every time they see you. If they’re feeling nice.” 

Ryuji lightheartedly groaned, but could hear the satire in Akira’s voice. He didn’t doubt that the two women were nice though, not one bit. He wanted to progress the conversation, but a sudden chill caught his hands and traveled up his arms when the cold air made it under the sleeves of his coat and hoodie. “Man, I gotta get a proper sweater, it’s freezin’. Is there anywhere you’d recommend I go?” 

“Oh, my friend owns a clothing shop somewhere around here! We could go tomorrow if you’d like, it gets super cold around here.”

_ We. _

Ryuji pushed the thought from his mind and asked, “Are you friends with everyone here?” 

“Not  _ everyone _ , but… kinda. It's hard not to when you grow up here.” 

“Or maybe you’re just a people person,” Ryuji replied, and Akira shrugged. Ryuji didn’t have a hard time believing Akira attracted people to him like moths to a flame, not with how willingly he followed the guy around an unfamiliar town like he couldn’t be a serial killer leading him to his doom. 

“Maybe I am… Oh, if you’re at a loss for what to do, there’s a giant lake down the hill of the mountain. The ice would crack through if you tried to skate on it this year, but kiddos like sledding down the hill too.” 

  
  
Ryuji said, “I’ve never been sledding before, what’s it like?” 

“You’ve never been sledding?” Akira asked in shock, momentarily stopping to look at Ryuji in disbelief. 

“City kid, remember? No hills in the parks.” 

“Right, right. Well, if your schedule isn’t too busy we could always go. I have sleds stored at the inn’s shed, and we gotta fulfill that childhood dream, yeah?” 

Ryuji wouldn’t have called it a  _ dream _ , but he nodded in agreement anyways. He didn’t think he could have declined even if he wanted to. There was an energy to Akira that allowed him to be so forward, but it wasn’t overbearing in the slightest. Rather, Ryuji could have let the guy lead him into the pit of lava if Akira said please really nicely. He was equal parts a dork as he was confident, and the two balanced out almost scarily well. 

It was proven even as Akira navigated Ryuji through the town, telling him about an interesting building here and there and the person he may or may not have known inside of them. 

Finally, they could escape the cold as Akira took a turn into one of the darker alleyways of the area and guided him to a small cafe called LeBlanc. It was unassuming on the outside, but Akira reassured him that it was the best place to get coffee in all of Japan and Ryuji was going to have to take his word for it… Even if he didn’t quite like coffee. 

The place was charming, though. 

The random books stacked on available surfaces, a quiet drone of the news on a small TV near the back, the ambience of the hanging orange lights that lined the ceiling. Ryuji felt a certain type of peace fade into his veins, especially when the scent of coffee in the air relaxed him instead of grossing him out as it usually did. It felt less artificial than themed city cafes, as much as Ryuji enjoyed those. He wished he could wrap himself up in a blanket and read manga in an empty booth all night.

“Welcome to the hidden gem of the town!” Akira announced after they kicked the snow off their shoes and left their coats on hangers at the door. His presence didn’t all disturb the man running the cafe from behind the counter; A tall, spindly man with a goatee that went out of style a few decades ago. Regardless, he tore his eyes away from the TV and onto Akira, who already made himself comfortable in a booth near the back. Ryuji scrambled to follow, still unsure of how polite he was supposed to be when Akira draped himself across every nearby service like a cat. 

“I wouldn’t say hidden gem,” the man drawled, unimpressed. 

Akira shrugged and told Ryuji, “His name’s Sojiro. And he definitely means gem, he’s just a grouch.”

Sojiro rolled his eyes, but it seemed like everyone was used to Akira’s almost-childlike antics. Maybe it was his friendliness that justified the forwardness. “What can I get you two?” 

“I’ll take my usual, but I think… He looks like a Cuban Crystal Mountain, right? Or a Costa Rican S-H-B?” Akira wondered aloud, directing the question towards Sojiro. Sojiro cocked his head to the side, clearly understanding what the hell Akira meant by Cuban Crystal Mountain, but couldn’t come to an answer. 

“Costa Rican  _ what _ ?” Ryuji asked, feeling his own head tilt in confusion. 

Akira answered, “Coffee! It’s not your average chain place, we happen to have  _ taste _ . I worked here when I was in high school, I know all the ins and outs.” 

Every time Akira opened his mouth, Ryuji felt like he learned twenty more things about the guy. Nevermind why he would go out of his way to learn and remember what was probably a variety of coffee profiles. Ryuji sheepishly admitted, “I don’t actually like coffee, really. I’m more of a tea and energy drink kinda guy.” 

“Huh,” Akira answered, evidently still in thought. “You seem like one of those guys that melted his taste buds with energy drink acid in high school and now can’t appreciate the good things in life.”   


  
Ryuji was overtaken by how suddenly brash Akira could be, almost like he didn’t think about how what he said could have been taken before saying it. “Hey! I—... can’t argue with that,” he pouted, realizing that Akira did have a point. “ _ Hmph _ . A hot cocoa would be nice though.” 

Sojiro had a reaction to that, and a glance his way told Ryuji that the man's eyes were glued on his dyed hair. He realized that maybe not everyone bleached their hair blonde after high school. 

“You got yourself one from Tokyo?” Sojiro asked Akira with a tone of criticism that only slightly hurt Ryuji’s pride. 

Ryuji felt the sudden need to impress Sojiro, for some inexplicable reason that even he didn’t understand. He unconsciously straightened up and answered, “Born and raised, sir.” 

“That’s Boss to you.” 

“Right. Sorry, Boss.” 

Sojiro gave no further reaction, but he didn’t look like he hated Ryuji, so Ryuji took it as a win. “Alright— The usual, and one hot cocoa for you two, coming right up.” 

Ryuji felt like he could finally breathe when Sojiro turned his back and he wasn’t under the scrutiny of the man's critical eye. He seemed nice enough in an odd, tsundere type of way, but how Akira could have stood to work under him as a teenager, Ryuji didn’t know. 

Akira looked considerably more comfortable when he wasn’t wrapped up in a puffy jacket, revealing the same turtleneck-sweater ensemble that Ryuji met him in. Though, without the ear muffs Akira had put on while they were outside, Ryuji could admire the dampness of his frizzy hair from the snow that had melted on top. In fact, even his eyelashes glimmered in the lowlight of the cafe, but it was barely evident behind the glare of his large glasses. The air had turned more intimate than it should have now that they could turn their full attention on the other. 

_ On the job. Investigation. Report. _

“So how do you know him?” Ryuji decided to ask, hoping the hitch of his breath as he gazed at Akira went unnoticed. 

Akira rested his chin on his hand. “My parents were family friends, and I looked over his daughter a while back. Uh— Futaba. The one I… y’know. Before. But Sojiro’s like an uncle to me, honestly, even if working with him was hell.” 

“I heard that.” Sojiro’s voice came from the back.

“I know,” Akira called back just as easily. 

Ryuji looked back on how naturally Akira interacted with everyone they stopped to talk to, every wave he sent to the odd passerby here and there on their way to the bakery and the cafe. Even when Ryuji had gone and turned the air awkward to all hell after making a fool out of himself, Akira was quick to lessen the tension. Ryuji was grateful for it, admittedly; he wasn’t sure when the last time was that he interacted with so many people

The whole idea of being on an investigation and hiding what his intentions were snooping freaking him out to all hell. He hadn’t expected to come across someone as enticing as Akira, or to let himself be carried off and meet locals like he was going to know them for more than a few days. In reality, Ryuji would be leaving the day after Christmas and would be back in Tokyo as he always was after the holidays: Alone, working, and generally content with zero direction. 

He was fine, just… bored. Akira was a breath of fresh mountain air. It burned Ryuji’s lungs a little, it was almost overwhelming. 

Before Ryuji could open his mouth and make a fool out of himself again in an attempt to make conversation, Sojiro was next to the table dropping two plates and mugs in front of them. Akira’s “usual” seemed to have consisted of a standard cup of coffee and a plate of curry and rice, but Ryuji wasn’t sure why he also got the same plate along with his hot cocoa.

Sojiro provided the answer. “I knew you’d want some once you see him eat it, it’s easier to get it out of the way.” 

And provided how mouth-watering it looked and smelled, Ryuji figured the man was right. He must have been working as a cafe owner for a long time to know the mind of an average customer. 

Ryuji dug in immediately, as the brownie from before was only a reminder to how hungry he really was. He hadn’t eaten since lunch at work, which was half a day ago already. He missed the amused quirk of Akira’s eyebrow until he looked back up at the man and asked through a mouthful of rice, “Wha?” 

Akira averted his gaze to his own food and spoke with an air of nonchalance, “Your Ann would be jealous knowing some random guy’s giving her a personal tour of this little place. Maybe our Anns should meet.”

“I…” Ryuji swallowed, carefully mulling over what he wanted to say. 

Akira, who  _ didn’t  _ turn out to be a serial killer, was kind enough to take some time off looking over the inn to show him around town. He was already kind and relaxed around some city slicker who had embarrassed himself in front of his friends, dyed his hair in his mid-twenties, and didn’t bring gloves with him while staying in the damn mountains. 

The least Ryuji could do was be… a little honest. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep up the “having a girlfriend” facade when Akira kept on gazing at him over his glasses in the way he was. Not when the warm light from above made his face glow in tints of the premature sunset and he played with a piece of hair near his temple. 

Ryuji would maintain his distance, but he could do him one bit of justice. 

“I-I gotta be honest with you, there’s no ‘ _ my’ _ Ann.” 

Ryuji would kill to have never had to watch the morph of the expression on Akira’s face; it turned from relaxation to furrowed eyebrows, a mix of confusion and… Ryuji couldn’t tell. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean— This is gonna sound embarrassing, but I already made a dick outta myself today— I, uh… lied? I mean, I didn’t just come up here because of that girlfriend shit, I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or, no one, you get the point—” 

“I get it,” Akira interrupted. Ryuji couldn’t pick apart his tone for the life of him, not with how quickly his face had fallen and turned stony. Should Ryuji have even told him? He didn’t— “But… why lie?” 

Ryuji put down his chopsticks to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. “I didn’t wanna seem like a loser up here all by myself for no reason, but I guess that kinda makes me more of a loser, huh?... Truth is, my mom was the one that told me I gotta get my head outta work and go somewhere to clear my mind, try something new, take pictures to prove I was actually doin’ stuff. This place had cheap rooms, and we never really had a good Christmas so… here I am.” 

It was true. Half true, at least. Well, not the  _ entire  _ truth- but he wasn’t lying. Mama Sakamoto  _ did  _ tell him to relax outside of the city, to take pictures and send them to her. 

Half truth. 

Ryuji wished he had Akira’s invisible confidence. He wished he could have taken every grievance in stride, because he felt ready to buy a ticket home as soon as they left the cafe. The heat of the light reflected the growing warmth in his face, of utter embarrassment that he couldn’t even maintain a story in front of one of the cutest people that have ever willingly offered him genuine kindness. He never cracked so easily under pressure, but it was one smile from Akira and he melted into a pathetic doki-doki puddle on the floor. 

“Hmm… I get it. Kind of a dick move, but you didn’t wanna look lame. Fair.” 

Thank god, Akira was smiling again. Ryuji’s excuse was far more believable from an outsider's perspective, but the truth was more entertaining than it was incriminating. If Ryuji had to admit just how much of a loser he was, well… It was a consequence he was willing to accept. It wasn’t like  _ that  _ wasn’t true either. 

“So we’re good?” 

  
  
“Definitely, but… can I flirt with you now that I know you’re not actually taken? Because I’ve been trying _very_ hard not to this entire time.”

Ryuji choked on air, and Sojiro sighed heavily from behind the counter. 

❄

“So… where’d you get the name Ann from?”

  
  
“...Poster advertisement in the train”

“Wow. I see why you were so nervous now.” 


	4. Chapter 4

For an inn that was supposedly not doing well, the rooms were unbelievably nice. Ryuji could have given it five stars just for how comfy the bed was, especially as he nuzzled into the warmth of the thick comforter. It matched the coziness of the rest of the room; wood paneled walls, antique looking dressers and earthy tones all around; it was more traditionally homey than his own apartment ever was. 

So much so, he barely registered the knock that came at the door and loudly groaned at the interruption to his dreamless sleep. 

Ryuji didn’t realize that it counted as an invitation to come in until he heard the soft “Oh!” from the doorway. 

“Should I come back another time?” 

The voice worked better than any alarm Ryuji ever had; He shot up, blinking the silhouette in the doorway into focus and pulling the covers over his lap to maintain some semblance of presentability when he noticed it was Akira who had come in, who then looked as if he was wondering if he should have given Ryuji a moment to wake up or not. 

“M’sorry, didn’t-” Ryuji paused to yawn, “-didn’t realize I was invitin’ ya in. Wh… Why are you here?” 

  
  
Akira lifted the tray in his hands. “Breakfast! You bought the package that brings up food at ten, ah— usually people are awake to receive it. You answered, so I thought…” 

He politely looked away from the bed, which only reminded Ryuji that he was  _ very  _ much shirtless and already cold outside of the rest of the covers save for the hand he used to cover his chest. He scrambled to put on the shirt he had thrown on the end of the bed while answering. “That’s my bad, completely forgot. Leave it on the table but, uh, thanks! Sorry about…” He gestured at his torso before pulling his shirt on. 

“No! I mean— N-No, it’s completely fine,” Akira’s voice had risen an octave. Ryuji had to resist the urge to smirk as Akira placed the tray of food on the bedside table nearby and cleared his throat. “Anyways, I’m not sure if you really had any plans, but I was wondering if you’d wanna go out again today? It got dark quickly yesterday, and I could show you where you can get those warmer clothes.” 

Ryuji leaned over and plucked a piece of toast off a plate on the tray, the thought that he should mention how punctual receiving breakfast was briefly flitting through his mind. He pushed it aside in favor of considering Akira’s offer, but a part of him knew the answer already. 

“Sounds great. See ya in an hour?” 

❄

The town square, as Ryuji remembered it the day before, was just as bright as it was when he arrived. However, the energy in it had been reinvigorated— It was almost as busy as Ryuji knew Shibuya to be, but it wasn’t with rushing businessmen and people with places to be and urgent matters to attend to. Rather, the arms of the townspeople passing by were all laden with one box or another of some sort of sparkly decoration sticking out the side. How some of them were planning on decorating store fronts even more than they already were, Ryuji didn’t know. 

A lot of the hustle and bustle was concentrated around the large tree in the very center of the square. It wasn’t as barren as it had been when Ryuji first saw it as people with high up ladders took their post on either side of the tree and were decorating it with large bulbs and ornaments, all while a crowd under would hand it to them and direct their placements. 

“Woah,” Ryuji breathed, barely about to contain his reaction at how lovely the picture in front of them was painted. He hadn’t seen so many people rejoice to get something done since the trains in Shibuya were all delayed for an hour and everyone had complained together— even then, they technically hadn’t solved anything, they had only succeeded in making themselves more annoyed. 

Akira pulled him out of his momentary stupor. “Busy, right?” 

It wasn’t what Ryuji was thinking, but it had reminded him that there were more than a handful of people that resided in Inaba. It was a stark comparison to the desolate streets he’d traversed before, albeit it was completely welcome. 

“Definitely, but— How come you’re decorating so late? Christmas is in four days.”   
  
Akira continued walking along, nodding at a couple of people passing by. “Because unlike you city slicker heathens, we haven’t completely commercialized the holidays. We have a whole bunch of traditions leading up a week to Christmas, we just finish decorating the tree before the tree lighting ceremony.” 

“Tree lighting—?” 

Before Ryuji could voice his question, he was interrupted by a high pitched shout of, “AKIRA!” 

  
  
A kid that looked to be in his tail end of high school ran up to Akira, his hat almost flying right off his head in the process. 

“Shit Shinya, did someone die?” 

  
  
The boy, Shinya, smiled and breathlessly answered, “Nah, but Mr. Iwai needs help hanging up lights on the tree, but he can’t remember which ones didn’t work last year.” 

“Don’t let Mune catch you calling him mister, he’ll kill you.” Akira looked ready to head in the direction Shinya came from, but paused when he remembered that he was supposed to be showing Ryuji around. “Sorry, it’ll only take two seconds. You can hang out at the bakery if you don’t wanna watch me bumble around on a ladder, Shiho won’t mind the company.” 

“Nah, I’ll help! Four hands better than two, right?” 

Ryuji wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Akira just yet. The fact couldn’t have meant anything good, but Ryuji forced himself to ignore it in favor of meeting the aforementioned Iwai and walking over to where there was a large ladder next to the half of the giant Christmas tree that wasn’t decorated yet. Akira immediately engaged in conversation with a scruffy, older looking man who was crouched next to two large boxes overfilled with string lights, seemingly comparing the two. 

Ryuji knew he didn’t have to take a picture of anything that wasn’t the inn, but figured his mom would enjoy seeing what else he was up to. He pulled his phone out momentarily and snapped a picture of the tree, Akira’s back to him in the frame. Then, he took a few more of the surroundings, sent them over to Mama Sakamoto, and returned his phone to his pocket to run up to where Akira was climbing onto the ladder with what were presumably the lights that worked. 

Ryuji gripped the bottom legs, carefully so that Akira wouldn’t fall if the wind jostled it around. Iwai barely registered his presence, only nodding at Ryuji before returning to squinting up at Akira on the ladder. 

Iwai would gruffly bark out what branches to hang the lights off of and Akira was careful to comply. He would get a couple feet of lights up before needing to climb down, let Ryuji shift the ladder to the side, and repeat the process. 

“Mune, I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s Kaoru?” Akira’s voice was only slightly taken away by the wind, but was still audible. 

  
  
Iwai shifted the lollipop in his mouth from one side of his mouth to the other and replied, “Tch, I almost had to force him to leave to get his masters, he wanted to stay and run the shop. He’s doin’ fine in Tokyo though, I think he was made for the city.” 

“Biomedical engineering, right?” 

“Hell if I know,” Iwai scoffed, but it was with a barely-there smile on his wary face. “He’s payin’ for it either way, but he said he likes it. Misses everyone here though.” 

Iwai and Akira continued on, chatting on about this Kaoru and other bits of conversation that Ryuji only catches snippets of, but he’s relatively content with the turn of events. It wasn’t as if he had any other concrete plans he needed to get to, and he was perfectly content with holding a ladder all day if it meant being around Akira and his endless supply of cheer.

Though he didn’t miss the sheer amount of people coming by to ask Akira about one thing or another. How his parents were, how the inn was, where a random box of town sanctioned decorations were. How Akira was supposed to know the last one, Ryuji didn’t know, but the man always provided some sort of adequate answer that was helpful in the end. Akira did it all with a wide smile, even climbing down from his ladder to disappear into the crowd when someone needed a hand and coming back breathless after apologizing to Ryuji for leaving for a moment, and if it was taxing, he didn’t show it. 

Ryuji didn’t understand it, how hospitable Akira could have been when every two seconds there was a townsperson he seemed to know coming by to ask about something that they could have figured out themselves if they thought about it for more than two seconds. Ryuji would have lost his cool by the fourth person if it were him. Instead, he nodded at whoever came by out of politeness and tried his best to ignore the looks he was getting for being an outsider, but Akira took it all in stride and acted as if Ryuji was meant to be there. 

Ryuji had secondhand exhaustion from it all and he wasn’t even the one doing any work. 

Akira was almost finished adding the last of a few ornaments on the top of the tree when an older looking man found his way towards Akira. 

“Akira! Good afternoon!” he boomed up the ladder. 

Akira turned around easily as he had been the entire day. He held onto the rung of the ladder behind him without a care for how high up he was, enough to have to yell if he wanted to be decently heard now that the wind was picking up. Ryuji’s grip on the base of the ladder tightened. 

“Yoshida-san!” he cheered. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

Yoshida laughed at Akira’s pleasantries. “Surveying the decorations is all. Better than last year, no?” 

“Brighter, I think,” Akira responded. Then, as if he remembered that Ryuji was there, continued, “Oh, sir! This is Ryuji Sakamoto, he’s staying in the inn for Christmas. Ryuji, this is Yoshida, he’s mayor of Inaba.” 

Ryuji politely bowed, but there wasn’t much else he could do. Being introduced to new people only solidified the guilt that had found its way in his chest as soon as he met Akira, and seeing how unabashedly  _ good  _ Akira only made Ryuji realize how much of a dick he was for following his own whims and not taking into consideration the reason why he was even in small, insignificant Inaba. He should have been back at the inn, taking pictures and writing notes. 

Yoshida eventually left to greet other milling townspeople and Akira hung up the last ornament among a cluster of other bulbs adorning the tree. He carefully climbed down, and other than the flush of his cheeks and nose, he didn’t look any worse for wear than Ryuji felt. 

“The tree looks great!” Akira exclaimed before Ryuji could get a word in. Ryuji stepped back with Akira to take another look at the final product and… yeah, it did. The tree looked fantastic- better than any gaudy department store front Ryuji had passed by one too many times. Some of the baubles looked old even from the distance he was standing away from them, but the other handmade ornaments added a charm to the evergreen. 

“The ones that look like dolls were made by the kids at the elementary schoolers, they thought it would be a fun project,” Akira said. Ryuji peered up at the various dolls in question, all sparsely spread over the branches. They were definitely made by elementary schoolers, but they were cute nonetheless. “I came in to help when they needed it. Word of advice: Don’t trust a nine year old with adult scissors. Not worth the tears.” 

Ryuji should have laughed, but he turned to Akira with a sense of awe. “How… do you do that?” 

“What d’you mean?” 

  
  
“Like,” Ryuji began, not realizing he was staring until he forced himself to look away. “Dealin’ with all these people, remembering all this random shit about their lives. I mean, I already forgot the mayor’s name.” 

Akira shrugged like he hadn’t ever thought that how he acted was out of the ordinary. “I don’t know. I’ve been told it’s just my nature, but when you grow up with everyone here you find it easier to remember.” 

A part of Ryuji didn’t believe that it could have simply been Akira’s “nature”, but the matter looked like a can of worms he wasn’t too keen on cracking open just yet. Instead, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck after giving it some thought. “Are ya only giving me the time of day ‘cause of your nature then?” 

It sounded more accusatory in his ears than it did in his head. He was prepared to clarify what he meant, but Akira smiled at him before he could. 

“If it were anyone else asking about where to eat in Inaba, I would’ve given them a map. C’mon, let me take you to get some warmer clothes, you look freezing right now.” 

☃

A few streets away was the small boutique Akira had mentioned had the coziest sweaters in the world. Ryuji had some doubt, but he was too eager to get somewhere warm to question it and the inside of the shop was lit up with cinnamon vanilla candles on the mantle pieces, so he wouldn’t be one to complain about it. Akira looked eager to take him there as well, and Ryuji’s hypothesis that Akira literally knew every single person in Inaba was proven further when he called out, “Hi, Yuuki!” as soon as they came inside. 

The man at the register jumped upon Akira’s loud entrance, but calmed when he saw who it was. “You gotta stop doing that...” 

“No can do, sir. Ryuji, Mishima— Mishima, Ryuji. Uh, Ryuji’s from the city and didn’t think to bring sweaters to the mountain, what’ll keep him warm ‘til Christmas?” 

Mishima looked a little overwhelmed to be receiving such orders within three seconds of Akira arriving, but he responded, “Anything in the store, you know that. You walk in here like you own the place every other day, what gives today?”

“Shh, shh, Ryuji doesn’t need to know that, I’m trying to look polite— But fine. We’ll be in the changing rooms, alright?” 

Mishima nodded and returned to the counting he was doing at the till, as there wasn’t anyone else in the shop to monitor. He must have been used to Akira’s antics, because he didn’t bat a single eye when Akira was already making himself home and shedding his coat to leave it on the counter. Mishima’s eyes didn’t stray from his task as he wordlessly grabbed it and tucked it under the top. Ryuji kept his own coat on, but watched the exchange with what he hoped wasn’t too much surprise. 

Akira was one of the most interesting people Ryuji had ever met. 

Ryuji followed him without much of a thought, he didn’t even feel surprised when Akira sped over to a wall with hung sweaters. 

“Medium?” Akira asked in Ryuji’s direction, but he already had a couple of hangers hanging off his fingers.

Ryuji dumbly nodded, and Akira took it as his cue to gather more. He was snatching them up so quickly that Ryuji couldn’t form an opinion on a design before a new one was thrown over it. Akira had to have had at least five in each hand when he was satisfied enough to whirl around to Ryuji and sing-song, “To the changing rooms we go!” 

  
“Those are all for me?”

  
  
“Can’t have you getting cold now, can we?” 

☃

Ryuji had tried on seven out of ten sweaters already, and he wanted every single one. They were all different in their own right, but neither rivaled the other in comfiness or design. It must have been that they were all homemade— Apparently, it was a Mishima family business. They must have been in the game for a long time since it seemed like they had mastered the art of the making of a perfect sweater. 

Akira insisted Ryuji come out with every top, though there wasn’t any difference between them except for the design. He’d sit on the stool outside and lightly clap when Ryuji came out, telling him to do a twirl every time. Ryuji didn’t mind, though the heat creeping into his face would argue otherwise. 

“I can’t buy all of these, man,” he called out from inside the dressing stall after pulling another sweater over his t-shirt— forest green with a few white stripes running with horizontal stitches of snowflakes. It reminded him of Akira, of when they first met the day prior and he was wearing a turtleneck under a sweater similar to it. Ryuji told himself that the reason why he might have favored this top over the others had nothing to do with it. 

Akira called back, “I dunno, I could probably work out a deal with Mi— Yusuke!” 

From what Ryuji’s ears could catch, a new person joined them in the dressing room, but it wasn’t Mishima. Akira’s voice picked up once more, and as hard as he told himself not to, Ryuji couldn’t help but eavesdrop. It was only here and there snippets of conversation, but Yusuke was looking for Akira and someone informed him that he was here. 

Ryuji tuned it out and resisted the urge to grumble; It felt like he was meeting a new person every three seconds, but he could barely keep up with remembering names when they would leave his mind the second they were out of sight. It wasn’t his fault that Akira attracted an assortment of people like moths to a flame, nor was it that he was overwhelmed because of the sheer amount of new information being jammed into his head.

None of it pertaining to his investigation, either. 

Ryuji tentatively opened up the door to his stall and poked his head out the door. Akira was still sitting at his stool, but he was engaged in a conversation with another man with blue hair— just how many of those came with Inaba? First Mishima, now this Yusuke guy...

Akira, as he did every single time he caught sight of Ryuji while talking to someone he hadn’t introduced him to, brightened up when Ryuji stepped out of the stall. “Ryuji, this is Yusuke! He’s a housekeeper at the inn. Uh- Actually, Yusuke, what do you think of this sweater?” 

Yusuke turned and gave Ryuji a calculating look— A slow up-and-down that made Ryuji extremely conscious of the loose thread on the seam of his jean pockets. It wasn’t as if it was important, but under Yusuke’s seemingly critical eye it felt like it would have been scaldingly pointed out. Did he—

“It’s suitable. Easy on the eyes, an adequate fit on his frame. Reminds me of you, in a way.” 

It could have been worse of an answer. 

Akira leaned back on his palms on his stool, head cocked to the side. Ryuji felt his eyes examine him in a similar manner to Yusuke, the hot gaze of scrutiny that made him feel self conscious and he had grown hot all over; He didn’t think it was because of the sweater either. 

“Yeah, I guess. If anything, get this one, Ryuji.”    


  
Ryuji shakily nodded, but he didn’t think he would have been able to say something intelligible even if he tried. His mind was too jumbled. Instead, he tucked himself back into the stall and didn’t bother with trying on the rest of the sweaters; He found the one he was sure about, and could pick a couple others from the ones he had already tried on. 

It didn’t take long to change— most of the work lay in putting the rest back on their hangers. He picked out two other sweaters, one navy blue, the other maroon, each with subtle designs that would have done him well for the rest of the week. 

Ryuji pushed his way out of the stall, one arm laden with Akira’s picks that didn’t make the cut and the rest of the hangers swinging off the fingers of his other hand. Akira was nowhere to be seen until he shuffled out of the dressing rooms and back into the main store, where he leaned against the counter while Yusuke and Mishima were conversing. 

“The city kid finally gets warm clothes! Who would’ve known,” Akira exclaimed when Ryuji hung the sweaters he wasn’t getting on an empty rack nearby and made his way to the register once more.    
  
“You sound like my mom, dude.” 

Ryuji then remembered… He checked the price tag of one of the sweaters. 

Oh,  _ ouch.  _

Small, family owned business. Ryuji had to repeat it to himself.  _ Small, family owned business _ . The clothes weren’t some flimsily produced factory garbage, but… Ryuji couldn’t use his company card for sweaters, could he?    


  
No, he swallowed some of his pride and lamented in the dent it would put in his bonus. The sweaters were soft, they’d last him a while. 

“You alright there, Ryuji?” Mishima was the one to ask him. Ryuji hadn’t realized that he was staring off into space with what was probably an unpleasant expression until he noticed how everyone was staring at him. 

He squeaked, “Y-Yeah! Just— feeling how nice these are.”

  
  
Maybe Mishima knew that he was hesitant on the price, but rang Ryuji up anyway. 

Small, family owned business. He’d survive. 

He finally lugged the shopping bags out of the store with Akira on his tail, once again being reminded of the cold. Maybe he should have put one on after paying it, it would have been serving him better than the stupid peacoat that filtered cold air through it like it was its job. That, and he still didn’t have gloves…

“I’m glad you met Yusuke,” Akira said after a moment. They were walking again, though Ryuji didn’t realize he was following Akira until he felt his feet moving on their own accord down the street. “He’s one of my closer friends, not just someone I happen to know. I think you two would get along.” 

  
  
Ryuji smiled, but immediately let it fall. It wasn’t as if he was actually going to get to know Akira’s friends, not when he was taking a train back to Tokyo the day after Christmas with a report on his computer and a company bonus in his wallet. He let himself get swept away in letting Akira introduce him to all the people he knew like they were old friends, and here he was, following him on a snow soaked sidewalk like he would trail after him forever if it came down to it.

Ryuji was getting majorly off track. He knew that, and yet… 

Akira, sensing Ryuji didn’t have anything to contribute, continued wondering aloud. Ryuji appreciated the noise. 

“Yusuke’s an artist, too. He has this tendency to latch onto people as muses, he’s a little… eccentric. I’m trying to set him up with Mishima though, Yusuke’s declared him his new subject so I hope something comes out of it.” 

Ryuji nodded, listening but not really absorbing the information with everything else that was introduced to him earlier, but he’d get it eventually. Instead, he noticed the sky already hinting at the dark; It must have been around five with how early the sun went to sleep. 

“Hey, where we goin’?” Ryuji decided to ask. The bags were light in his hand, though it wasn’t the reason why he was a little anxious to get back to the inn. It was barely late in the evening, but with the night came a new layer of wintry cold that he’d always avoided back at home; By the time it got dark, he’d already been settled in his apartment under a kotatsu and a good manga. Unfortunately, I have neither. 

Akira slowed so he matched pace with Ryuji. “I was thinking I could take you somewhere interesting. Iwai’s gun shop should still be open...” 

  
  
“...His what?” Ryuji meekly asked. 

♛

After bidding Akira a goodbye at the base of the stairs at the inn, Ryuji dragged himself into his room and immediately noticed the new state of cleanliness in the room— his bed was made, some of the thing he had thrown onto a table near the window were rearranged, and a peek into the bathroom told him that it’s mini toiletries had been replenished. Along with it came a pile of towels on the counter, though the towel on top was folded in a complicated, origami fashion and Ryuji was reminded that Yusuke was probably the one to have cleaned it, which only served as another reminder of how royally he felt he was fucking up.

Ryuji collapsed onto his now-neat bed, coat, bags, sneakers and all. 

Fraternizing with the enemy?! Well— Akira wasn’t so much his  _ enemy,  _ but rather someone he was supposed to hold under an eye of veiled professional scrutiny— Who ran the inn while he was out with Ryuji? Were there even any other guests there or was it only Ryuji? How did Akira pay Yusuke if no one came around?

Ryuji had a million and one chances to casually ask, but there was something stopping him. It could have been the guilt, or the regrettable way his heart panged every time Akira sent him a soft smile— He knew he was in too deep to back out just yet, and he hadn’t even properly explored the facility! He hadn’t found the time to inconspicuously take any pictures that weren’t of his own room, he hadn’t touched his work laptop since the train ride to Inaba, and it didn’t help that he was getting cozier with some of the locals.

Locals— Akira’s friends. It still astonished Ryuji every time someone new came around and Akira could recall the most random of facts about them, no matter how long Ryuji spent holding the bottom of that ladder for him. Just standing around the sheer amount of cheer and decoration rubbed off on him; He didn’t mind the hanging tinsel that caught the sunlight and blinded him every time he looked at it directly, or the bright storefronts and sheer joy that permeated through the square and into Ryuji’s core. 

For once, he didn’t mind the utter aura of  _ Christmas _ . 

But Ryuji didn’t have time to think about Christmas. He’d focus on writing up his report, and spend the next day taking pictures and exploring everywhere he could, he told himself. He’d have to hold himself to it, but his heart was fighting on both sides of the battle field and he wasn’t sure how long he could pretend that he wasn’t hanging around Akira with the excuse to get information from him. 

A part of him was convinced he never hung around Akira for that purpose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it snowed where i am!!! very very excited about it


	5. Chapter 5

Breakfast arrived at ten the next morning, just as the package stated. Ryuji was ready this time, sitting at his room's desk with the curtains open and with a shirt on, for one. Akira was as pleasant as ever, though he didn’t stay to talk as he had plans for the day; Apparently, mission “Get-Yusuke-And-Mishima-Laid” was a go and he was the leader of the operation. Ryuji wasn’t sure who else could have had the time to tag along with the shenanigans, but he wasn’t going to ask to come along. 

Akira was gone with a swish of his jacket and a gently shut door, leaving Ryuji on his own for the time being. It was possibly the best situation that could have been presented to him for the day— Akira was out, which meant Ryuji could snoop around and see if there were any other guests in the inn, who else might have been working. He could probably take a few pictures of the facility as well, he would have had to have done it eventually. 

Ryuji had the outline of a report ready on his laptop in front of him, but it only consisted of subtitles he had yet to flush out with information. He knew he had to, but scrolling through the empty document reminded him of just how little he knew about the inn itself. Akira mentioned Yusuke being a housekeeper, but if Yusuke was the subject of Akira’s mission, who knew where the two were. Ryuji imagined Akira was an imaginative one when it came to situations such as Yusuke and Mishima's. 

Maybe Ryuji just needed a change of scenery. 

He tried not to feel too guilty as he pulled on the blue sweater he bought the day prior over his t-shirt. He finished his breakfast quickly, adding a footnote to his thoughts to mention how good it was in the report. He could tuck it in there somewhere, probably…

The click of his phone camera was loud in the empty hallway. There were only a few doors across from Ryuji’s on the second floor of the facility, and then the wall opened up to a banister that looked down onto the common area. Ryuji still wasn’t completely over the charming view, though he was quick to shove his phone in his pocket when he noticed the two other residents of the room. 

Makoto and Haru. 

Ryuji would recognize the two heads of hair anywhere. They faced away from him on the couch closest to the stairs, hunched over a computer and various papers spread out on the coffee table in front of them. The creak of a floorboard under Ryuji’s foot alerted them of his presence, and they turned to look at his frozen figure on the stairs.

“Oh, I thought you would be with Akira again today.” Makoto’s voice was neutral, but it uncomfortably traveled under Ryuji’s skin. 

He wasn’t aware that she knew he was hanging around Akira until then, but maybe news traveled fast. 

“Oh,” he awkwardly laughed, forcing himself to actually go down the stairs since he had already gotten this far. He paused at the bottom, eyes flitting between the recliner next to the coffee table or the second large couch right in front of it, but he needed somewhere to put his bag… “He’s out doin’ something with Yusuke and Mishima, I think.” 

  
  
Ryuji sat next to the arm rest closest to the door. For an easy escape, he told himself. An escape from what, he had no idea, but something about the presence of Makoto and Haru was almost intimidating. They paid him no mind as they murmured to each other, scanning over some of the papers in their hands and comparing them to whatever was on the screen of the laptop between them, and yet Ryuji still felt nervous. 

He opened his own laptop in his lap, remembering the main reason why he was even out in the common area and not his room. A bare report document greeted him as soon as it booted up, glaring holes into his guilty conscience, and then sparking up the beginning of an idea in Ryuji’s mind. 

He’d only ever seen the two women sitting in the inn, maybe that meant… “S-So, are you guys staying here too?” He hoped he didn’t sound too suspicious, but his nerves made everything seem like he was being found out. There was a certain aura to the two…

Haru looked up from the document in her hand with a smile. So she was the nicer of the two, Ryuji made a mental note. “No, we just happen to be Akira’s friends. We always try to come by around Christmas, he always spreads himself way too thin during the season...” 

Ryuji was getting major ‘Please Don’t Talk to Us” vibes, but he had always been good at being pushy. Haru was already back to her paper, but Ryuji leaned forward. 

“What are ya looking at right now?” 

“Financials,” Makoto answered, though she finally tore her eyes away from it to look at Ryuji. The line between her eyebrows finally relaxed and she traded staring at the lines on the paper to tilting her head back on the couch and sighing. She looked more tired the more Ryuji examined her. “Must you know?” 

“I’m just curious,” Ryuji defended, hoping he didn’t sound too offensive at her tone. “I cover some financials for the company I work at, I’m alright at this stuff.” 

It was the truth— While Ryuji avoided any semblance of conversation pertaining to his work while with Akira, he could afford to skirt around the specifics if it meant getting any information about how the inn was doing monetarily. 

He missed the glance Haru and Makoto sent each other. 

“Ah, well,” Haru softened, lightly laughing. “This inn’s owned by a much larger hotel company, it needed the aid from the beginning to get started. I’m quite familiar with its processes, actually, my father’s the CEO.” 

It took a stifling moment for the words to absorb. 

And when it did, it hit Ryuji all at once. Haru… couldn’t have known. She  _ couldn’t _ . Ryuji had heard of the Okumura’s long before he began working for the company, they were a conglomerate of various business ventures that Ryuji couldn’t keep track of, and frankly it was a little scary how much of a reign they had over the business world. 

But there were so many, Haru couldn’t have possibly known the specifics of one little hotel management company. She was probably aware because it was a general process across all companies, not necessarily the specifics. That's what Ryuji convinced himself. 

“Right,” Ryuji answered a beat too late, throat suddenly dry. 

He was the one intent on leaving the conversation there that time. He was reminded of his initial goal for going downstairs, but with his nerves heightened it almost seemed futile. They raised the hair on his arms, made him aware of Makoto and Haru returning to their hushed conversation. 

“Ever since Futaba did the wipe it’s been quiet, but…” 

  
  
“We’ll tell him later. I know he loves Yusuke, but he can’t take it upon himself to house the guy… Do you think there’s wiggle room in utilities?”

“Not sure, check… Hm, all the files should be under that folder. You know, he won’t let me help out either. I’ve told him it’s no problem but he doesn’t even want me to put in a good word with Father.” 

“He’s always been too stubborn for his own good, you know that.” 

Ryuji dryly swallowed, already tuning himself out of the conversation. A part of him wanted to push his wobbly limit and to ask to take a look at the documents they got on hand so he could get more of an idea of what the specifics on financials looked like, but he was already nudging a line he didn’t want to cross. He pretended to get absorbed in reading his own screen, but his hands were frozen over the keyboard. 

Ryuji could put it in the report. He  _ should  _ put it in the report. 

But he didn’t. He would do it later, not when it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was up to something suspicious and wouldn’t stop shifting in his seat. Haru and Makoto didn’t spare him another glance, but he caught Haru’s hands hesitating when he tried typing something up and he couldn’t convince himself that he was simply overthinking all of it. 

The internet the inn offered was shoddy, but Ryuji decided to open up his work email anyways. There wasn’t a lot to sift through other than a few questions about a few facilities in the region Ryuji looked over, but it wasn’t enough to completely take his mind off the matter at hand. He sent shaky responses, but even he could tell that he sounded distracted with a few typed words. 

Makoto and Haru left after some time, with quiet sighs as they gathered their papers and tucked them into a couple of folders. Ryuji could only awkwardly nod when they said goodbye out of fear of his voice cracking like a teenager. His laptop felt too hot in his lap, probably because it had been running for a while, but it remained heavy with the weight of its contents regardless. 

He returned to his room after building up the nerve to get up, deciding to tuck the laptop back into his work bag and tackle it another day. He just needed some more concrete data. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, shorter update, but uploading every day is work, pls have mercy 
> 
> also i didnt say it last chapter, but im ABSOLUTELY pushing my yusuke/mishima agenda here, i didnt know i needed it until i discovered it and this seemed like the place to put it


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhhhh we're halfway there

Akira returned from his mission to set up Mishima and Yusuke in the late afternoon, making his arrival known with a knock on Ryuji’s door. 

Ryuji opened it, not exactly anticipating what was on the other side. Not only was Akira completely decked out in a large puffy coat and the entire combination of a scarf, gloves, and a hat, but balanced under his elbow beside him was a large, wooden sled. The classic type with a flat wooden top and shiny red runners, nothing like the plastic colorful ones Ryuji's seen advertised in toy store windows. 

“How’d ya know I was still here?”

  
  
“Lucky guess. You’ve never sledded, and I thought we could do something so your mom can get a few pictures. Can’t have you all holed up in your room all day.” 

Ryuji leaned against the doorframe and teased, “You sure that’s the only reason?” 

“Yep,” Akira devilishly answered, “Only one. You up to it?” 

Ryuji had just been texting his mom, only telling her that he was doing fine and the trip was rather boring. He didn’t want to disclose to her the glaring predicament that racked his senses with guilt every time he thought about it, as he partly hoped it would blow over by the time he got home so he wouldn’t have to dwell on it for long. He didn’t want to tell her that he was fraternizing with the guy whose inn he might have to close, but it also would have given her less than savory ideas. 

But… she did ask for pictures. 

“Sure. I should probably change, though,”

  
  
Akira gave him a once over, raising an eyebrow at Ryuji’s Pokémon themed socks that Ryuji didn’t have the energy to look sheepish about. “Definitely. Double up too, it’s cold.”

  
  
Like Ryuji didn’t notice. He was already wearing a long sleeved shirt under his sweater, but he had a feeling he would need to triple, quadruple up on layers instead. He’d never exactly played in the snow as a kid, but he knew to bundle up as much as he could. 

Which is how he ended up wearing a short sleeved shirt under his long sleeved one, under a sweater, under his coat. That, combined with two layers of pants and socks, his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and beanie definitely flattening his hair, he was golden. Hopefully he’d survive rolling around in the snow, but he had a sinking feeling that his lack of gloves would undo all the work he was putting into staying warm. 

“You look like a marshmallow,” Akira told him when he waddled down the stairs. It was a little difficult to move when he had a pair of skinny jeans on under a pair of looser sweatpants, but he managed. 

Ryuji grumbled, “I know.” 

Akira led Ryuji outside of the building with the sled in hand. Where Ryuji expected they continue on straight and head into town to go to the hill Akira mentioned before, Akira took a turn so that they were heading towards the side of the facility. He tilted his head back and continued, “You should invest in some long underwear or something.”

“Long— _huh_?”

  
  
“I’ll explain later, c’mon.” 

Off the side of the building was a small parking lot, that was then followed by a sparse forest of evergreens and other barren trees. The ground stooped downwards and while there wasn’t a path, it looked like Akira knew where he was going. Perhaps it was concealed by the thick layer of snow covering the ground. Their footsteps made deep indents with every step they took downhill, Ryuji's trailing after Akira's. 

The thicket grew more dense before it began to thin out. As more space grew between the trees, Ryuji looked down at their destination: Now that there were no more trees ahead, he could see that the hill continued downward for a while until it leveled out before a large, iced over lake that stretched far out to another shore of forest. 

It was a perfect spot to sled. Not that Ryuji would know, but just based off of the scenery he could make an educated guess of what a kid would like. 

Akira stood next to Ryuji as he took it all in. “Pretty, right?” he breathlessly asked. 

Ryuji glanced at the man. Akira's eyes sparkled behind his glasses, slightly watery from the wind blowing in their direction. The hair that stuck out of his own knit beanie was damp and curling against his forehead, and a rosy blush spread over his nose and cheeks. Every breath from his nose came in little puffs that dissipated in the air. Ryuji already felt warmer. 

The view— postcard perfect, with Akira flush in the center.

  
  
Was it pretty? “Yeah. Definitely.”

Akira finally placed the sled on the ground, which only just put into perspective how small it was. It wasn’t _tiny_ , but it only looked like it could fit one and a half people on it, and Ryuji was _all_ leg. 

“Ain’t no way we’re fitting on that,” Ryuji said. 

But Akira was too busy holding onto the reins in the front and plopping himself onto the sled to give it any second thought like Ryuji was. “We can if we try!” 

“A-Aren’t we gonna fall into the lake?” Ryuji tried. 

“Not when you have an expert sledder holding the reins we won’t. Please, it’ll be fun!”

  
  
He really did look like a kid in the moment, legs crossed on top of the sled as he excitedly smiled at Ryuji to join. 

He couldn’t have said no to _that_ … Fine. Ryuji awkwardly planted both of his feet on the snow on either side of the sled and crouched down onto it, but the case remained that he couldn’t really place his legs anywhere except around Akira’s waist. It didn’t help that his chest was dangerously close to Akira’s back either.

Akira leaned back for him. “C’mon, you can’t drag your feet or it’ll slow down, put them next to me.” 

They were way too close, but not for Ryuji’s comfort. If anything he wished he could completely wrap himself around Akira’s torso like a touch-starved koala would a branch, but he settled for awkwardly shifting his legs under Akira’s crossed thighs and gingerly placed his hands on Akira’s shoulders to hold on. 

“...Are we five years old?” Ryuji dropped his forehead between Akira’s shoulder blades at the mental image painted in his head. Two grown men shoving themselves onto a tiny sled so one of them could live out some unfulfilled childhood memory— Ryuji couldn’t help but drly laugh.

  
  
Akira only wistfully sighed, half-laughing and half-serious when he said, “Can’t we all do with being kids every once in a while, though?” 

Maybe Ryuji _could_ ease up a little… It was the entire point of his trip after all. Well, it wasn’t exactly the point, actually— He had another job— 

Akira was already scooting them forward before Ryuji could spiral, and the steady downward tilt of the sled took Ryuji out of his head and back to the fact that they were already picking up speed from the few feet they had been moving and the sled had barely gone anywhere. 

As they picked up a dangerous amount of speed flying down the hill, Ryuji couldn’t help but tighten his grip around Akira’s shoulders for dear life. Wind whipped across the sides of his face; He was sure it was completely frozen at that point. It was already difficult to keep his eyes completely open with how heavily they watered, and he briefly thought about the tears streaming on either side of his face freezing onto his skin like that. 

“Holy shit!” Ryuji shouted over the wind rushing through his ears. They barreled closer to the edge of the lake and Ryuji could only throw his arms around Akira’s neck in hopes that he wouldn’t fly off the end of the sled at their speed. There was a bump in the hill that felt like it sent them soaring for a brief moment, before they returned back onto the bumpy surface of the snow. 

Yet, the iced laked looked more and more menacing the closer they got to it and Akira didn’t look like he had any signs of slowing them down. He only whooped and let the air take the sound with it, long gone by the time Ryuji shouted, “H-Hey, dude! Ain’t we gonna—!” 

Before Ryuji could express his worry, Akira yanked at the reigns and threw all his weight to the side. The runner of the sled abruptly stopped its momentum and they were sent flying off the sled for real this time, Ryuji’s grip on Akira unrelenting in his panic.

_Thump._

Ryuji and Akira landed on a heap a moment later, a tangle of limbs in the snow just barely off the edge of the lake. A minute passed and Ryuji was still wheezing for air until he realized that there was a weight on his chest that was the one cutting off his breath. His eyes fluttered open to the top of Akira’s hair gracing his chin, only for Akira to begin shaking the following moment. 

“‘Kira..?”

  
  
But before Ryuji could express more concern, Akira was already trembling in barely restrained laughter. He tried to push himself up on his hands, which only made it apparent to Ryuji that he had somehow become chest to chest with Akira when they flew off the sled, only to fall back down when he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. 

Ryuji couldn’t help it— he began to laugh as well. It was hard not to when Akira’s joy was so contagious, but a smile pulled the corners of his lips and he felt the air pulled from his lungs for a myriad of different reasons in that moment. 

Soon, Akira lifted himself up and succeeded in staying up. Humor tinged his tone as he said, “Sorry, sorry, I don’t even know what’s funny, just—” but he trailed off into another giggle. 

He had his hands on either side of Ryuji’s arms and hovered over him, glasses skewed and slipping down his nose. His smile was wide enough to blind Ryuji more than the snow around them currently was, but the rosiness of his cheeks and the genuine squint of his happiness was a distraction to it all. Ryuji must have looked like a dumbass— mouth parted open, frozen, with absolutely nothing to say. His mind had short circuited when Akira looked so beautiful gazing down at him.

“What was that for?” Ryuji asked, though it was the only thing he could come up with that wasn’t _god, I want to kiss you._

“What was what?” Akira answered. Like he didn’t already know. 

“Sendin’ us flying through the air like that. Coulda broken that pretty face of yours, y’know.” It was the most Ryuji would expose of himself, he swore to it. Akira’s smile had only grown wider, a reaction Ryuji could have preened at if Akira still wasn’t pinning most of his body to the ground.

“Not when the snow cushioned our fall. It’s the only way to stop anyways.” Akira finally seemed to notice their position and clambered off of Ryuji, falling on his behind to Ryuji’s side. His face had definitely grown another shade more red, but Ryuji chalked it up to the lack of a warm body next to him in the cold. Akira decided to move on, “So, did you like it?” 

  
Ryuji sat up himself and made an attempt to wipe off the sticky snow on his arms. His hands were completely numb to the bone, but it didn’t deter him when he proudly declared, “Again.” 

☃

They must have gone up and down that hill thousands of times. 

Ryuji couldn’t spare a second thought to the fact that he couldn’t feel most of his body. He was too busy sledding down a hill like he was in primary school again, with Akira with him every single time. Most of the time Ryuji held onto Akira from behind and prayed he wouldn’t hurt too bad every time Akira launched them off of the sled, but Akira let Ryuji take the reins a couple of times. He would get nervous and almost not turn the sled, but he’d manage in the end. He liked when Akira took control anyways. 

So much time had passed while they were having fun like children would a playdate that the sky was already hinting towards the evening. It didn’t help that the sun went down as soon as breakfast was finished, but it meant that they should have probably headed back to the inn soon. 

Except Ryuji wanted one last trip before they retired for the day. Akira had made it back to the top of the hill and breathlessly stated that there was no way he was going to make another climb up again, but Ryuji had one more in him. For his first time sledding, he wanted to make the most of it. 

“You’re sure you got it?” Akira asked. Even he was warming his hands under his arms as Ryuji took the rope reins of the sled in his own hand. 

“I’ll be fine,” Ryuji answered. “It ain’t that hard, I just gotta cannon ball into the snow like we’ve been doin’, right?”

  
  
Despite it being the only time he had gone sledding alone, Ryuji felt confident. He pushed off just as he and Akira had been doing before, much more prepared for the whistle of wind in his ears and barely being able to keep his eyes open. It helped that before Akira used to be in front of him so he could shield himself from the worst of it, but the tears streaming down the sides of his face went completely unnoticed for the umpteenth time. 

The path they carved into the snow was already bumpy as all hell with the sheer amount of times they’d ran it to the grass, more so than it was when they got to the hill. Ryuji’s fingers slipped around the rein with every bump, but then he lost grasp of it when he soared over a lump that tugged it out of his hands. 

The rope flew forward and right under the sled's runners, leaving Ryuji to grapple for a grip at the front of the sled. He should have known that his first time going alone would have brought bad luck, but he only felt panic as he sped closer and closer to the fragile, iced-over lake. 

“RYUJI! JUMP OFF!”

  
  
But Ryuji couldn’t hear him, not with the alarms blaring in his head and how far Akira was. He fumbled with the front of the sled in an attempt to steer its course, but he had no leverage over its decided direction. There was a pile of upturned snow at the spot where they usually tipped the sled and stopped themselves, but it had frozen over and only sent Ryuji colliding with it head on.

The sled stopped, but Ryuji did not. 

They really should have chosen a spot that wasn’t so close to the lake. The momentum Ryuji had gained from speeding down the hill was uninterrupted as he flew through the air and tumbled right to the edge of the lake. 

And then slid far onto the ice. 

_Crack._

The crack was loud in the silence that the snow absorbed. Ryuji tentatively opened his eyes when he realized he was sprawled out on a hard, _cold_ surface. The ice beneath him cracked again. He wasn’t close enough to the edge of the ice to risk trying to get up and walk over to it, but he soon learned he didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. 

The ice continued to splint under him, and every piece of knowledge on what to do in situations such as those immediately left Ryuji’s head. He watched Akira clamber down the hill, shouting something at Ryuji, but Ryuji didn’t hear a single word of it as there was a final crack, and the ice under him fell completely. 

☃

“Sorry,” Ryuji sheepishly muttered when Akira handed him a steaming mug of hot cocoa. 

Akira had his own cabin, apparently. It was further off from the lake, hidden behind a thicket of trees for privacy. Ryuji should have known that Akira obviously didn’t live in the inn, but it hadn’t crossed his mind when Akira fished him out of the frigid water of the lake and told him he was taking him somewhere to warm up. 

Which ended with Ryuji, wrapped up in every single blanket (and a couple of towels) that Akira owned while his clothes— _All_ his clothes— were hung up to dry in front of the fireplace of Akira's living. The entire cabin was as charming as he could imagine a woodland cabin to be, but now that Ryuji wasn’t worried about contracting hyperthermia he could admire it in depth. Wood paneled walls, worn furniture, a mini Christmas tree on the couch’s side table. A black cat zipped by a few times, feigning disinterest at the odd visitor by only staying a few seconds at a time to somehow glare at Ryuji and then hide again. Morgana, Akira said its name was. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Akira smiled, and sunk into the cushion with a mug in hand right next to Ryuji. “If anything, I’m sorry you ended up taking a nosedive into the lake. I should’ve gone with you. Now you look even more like a marshmallow than before.” 

Ryuji cupped the mug through the little openings he made in the layers of blankets literally piled around him. Combined with the heat from the fireplace and the towel on his head drying his hair, he felt loads better than he did when he was surrounded by ice cold lake water. 

Akira had already changed, switching out of his own damp clothes to a pair of large sweatpants and a hoodie. Ryuji willed himself not to react, as he was literally butt naked on the guys couch, but only until Akira leaned into his side with his own mug of coffee. From the field of vision that wasn’t obscured by blanket, Ryuji could see the chip on the side of it. 

“I’m not gonna get hypothermia or somethin’, right?”

  
  
Akira sighed, “Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time it’s happened. I got you out soon enough, and you’re all warm now so you should be fine.”

  
  
Ryuji decided not to ask for _that_ story. Instead, they fell into a quiet that was only accompanied by the crackle of the fireplace. Ryuji watched the flames dance and his clothes drying nearby. He felt bad enough that Akira was spending all his time with him, but saving him from what could have been a horrible bout of hypothermia after he made the mistake of not wearing gloves and letting go of the reins was a whole other hand of hospitality that Ryuji didn't exactly think he deserved. 

“How come…” Ryuji began, and did his best to straighten up with the weight surrounding him. “Out of all the people, how come you’re spending all this time with me? I mean, you look like you have so much shit to do…”

  
  
Akira kept his eyes concentrated on the fireplace. Ryuji tried his best not to get distracted by the orange glow coloring Akira’s bangs.

“You’re a change of pace,” Akira answered simply. Then, he dryly laughed, “If anything, you make me a little selfish too, taking all your time so you can spend it with me. I bet you have a bunch of things you wanted to do if I hadn’t stolen you away.” 

“There’s nothing selfish about taking time for yourself... and it’s not like I don’t want to be around you too.”

  
  
Ryuji knew he was getting way ahead of himself. He could have stopped after his first sentence, but it wasn’t as if it wasn’t true. He found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Akira despite how little time he had spent in Inaba; It was no secret to himself that he was already quite taken by the man, but the original reason why he was on the trip in the first place felt like it had long left his mind. Even his revelation from the afternoon prior couldn’t have stopped him from gripping his mug a little tighter and thinking about how tight Akira made his chest feel. Hell, he felt like a teenager with a school crush all over again. 

A small smile quirked the corners of Akira’s lips. “I have another idea of how to make sure you stay warm.”

“O-Oh?”

The suggestion already did the job of firing up Ryuji’s face, if that was Akira’s goal. A couple of other places as well. 

Akira got up from the couch and put his mug down, though he looked set on getting to his room. “I’m getting you some clothes, give me a sec.” 

☃

Going to a hot spring up the mountain was not what Ryuji expected when Akira said to warm up more. Not that he was complaining, but…

Akira lent him some of his clothes and a puffy coat for reasons he didn’t immediately tell him. He only left the room to let Ryuji break out of his blanket cave and change, and then told him they were going back outside. Ryuji expressed his hesitancy in going outside again when it was almost entirely dark, but Akira insisted it would be worth it when he saw what their destination was. They left the cabin and traveled back up to the inn, and then took a carved out path up the mountain. 

Hot springs. The inn owned property right up to the mountain, which held a medium sized hot spring that was fenced off with high plants and trees from the outside world. It was still cold as all hell outside— _colder._ The elevation did Ryuji no favors and he felt just as he did when he fell into the lake, but the springs steamed from their heat to make up for it. The concrete surrounding the spring was perfectly dry as well; Ryuji and Akira could just drop their things to the ground. 

“Uh— Do we have towels?” As they entered through the gate and got closer to the spring, the heat was already radiating off it into the air in waves. It reminded Ryuji he had limbs, at least. 

  
  
Akira deadpanned. “Damn, I forgot.”

  
  
Ryuji came to the conclusion that he didn’t actually forget. 

“But we can just go in our boxers. You’re wearing mine anyways.” 

Right, it almost left Ryuji’s mind. He tried not to dwell on it or they would have a real problem at hand, but his own underwear was still drying over Akira’s fireplace. Akira figured Ryuji didn’t want to go commando in his pants, but it also must have been a part of the guys grand scheme. 

“Have ya been trying to get me outta my pants this whole time?”

  
  
“I already did it once, didn’t I? C’mon, strip, Sakamoto!”

  
  
Akira was already at the edge of the spring, shedding his own clothes on the ground nearby. It left Ryuji to sputter in embarrassment on his own, mind attempting to catch up with every confident remark Akira had the balls to make. How he did it, Ryuji couldn’t have guessed, but Akira succeeded in catching him off guard every single time. 

“W-Wait up!”

  
  
Ryuji stumbled forward in his haste to pull off his jacket and toe his sneakers off at the same time, using the distraction not to look up at every new piece of clothing from Akira that was making it onto the ground. Akira was already down to his boxers and stepped into the stairs in the water, though he was so quick in doing so to escape the cold that Ryuji missed the view. 

The water wasn’t deep enough to swim in, but Akira glided through it to sit on the ledge on the side. 

“The waters warm, Ryuji,” Akira enticed him. Ryuji was too transfixed to realize he was staring, but he shook his head to get the thoughts out of there and finally shucked off his pants. He didn’t plan on giving Akira a show, not when the air sent goosebumps flying up his entire bare body, but he hesitated when he got a good look at Akira. They were surrounded by warm yellow lanterns on the top of the fence, casting dancing shadows from the tall plants onto the ground. Ryuji didn't know what it was about Akira that changed him in the dark, but the dark contour of his cheekbones, of his carved out collarbones, grew sharper. Made the lines of his face a little more prominent. Ryuji liked soft Akira, but he liked this Akira as well. Almost mysterious, like he had a locked chest of secrets he hadn't shared with anyone. 

Another gust of wind crawled up his leg, and Ryuji realized that once more, he was staring. He scrambled forward, hoping Akira hadn't caught him, and held onto the railing of the spring to get in. The sigh that left his lips when he took his first step into the water was of relief— The water was piping hot, but it beat the cold and Ryuji was, as always, utterly freezing. 

Ryuji sank in completely a moment later, allowing the heat to completely envelope him. The steam from the surface of the water did the job of warming his face as well. He glided over to sit next to Akira on the ledge, almost too conscious of how close he should be. 

Pushing it from his mind, he settled down and groaned when he could finally focus on anything but Akira, tilting his head back onto the edge of the spring, “God, that hits the spot.”

  
  
“I know,” Akira sighed in content himself. 

Lightyears could have passed, Ryuji didn’t know. Akira’s shoulders were only inches away from his own, and their breathing was the only interruption in the silence that otherwise enveloped them. 

Ryuji was the one to break it first. He had a lot on his mind, but he had always been curious… “So, how come you ended up ownin’ an inn? You seem pretty young for something like that.” 

Akira raised his head at the question, but quietly murmured, “It used to be my parents’ before they retired. I didn’t want them overworking themselves to keep it running so I offered to take it over, but it’s been… y’know. Difficult.”

  
  
“That bad?”

  
  
“Not the worst,” Akira clarified, but even his voice had a tired edge to it. “It gets to be a little… a lot, sometimes. I mean, my parents had each other to work with. Dad was always too nice, and Mom put her foot down when it was needed, so they balanced out pretty well. I inherited my dad’s side though, so… y’know. Can’t say no to anything.”

  
  
Ryuji slowly nodded. It was obvious just by when they were in the town square and it felt like the entire population of Inaba went to Akira for the most mundane of things, but it must have been worse because Akira looked like he physically could not say no when someone needed something. He would go out of his way to do what they needed to the best of his abilities, but a small town was a lot to carry on one set of shoulders.

“But then you came along, so now it’s… easier. Usually I’m running all over the place for Christmas, but I feel like I’m 16 and ditching all my responsibilities again to hang out with some boy.” Akira giggled, which only added onto how youthful it all seemed.

  
  
“We can all do with being kids every once in a while though.”

  
  
“Don’t use my own quotes against me!” 

Akira shoved him in the shoulder, which only brought Ryuji back to where they were. In the steaming hot water, almost naked, and Akira was much, much closer than he was before. 

Ryuji turned his head to look at Akira and they met eyes immediately. For the first time, Ryuji noticed that Akira had omitted wearing his glasses since they had been in the cabin. 

“You don’t need your glasses?” Ryuji murmured, more struck by how dark Akira’s irises were when they weren’t obscured by the glass. Earnest was hidden away in his pupils, staring back at Ryuji like a challenge he wasn't sure if he should take. 

Akira grew a little sheepish at the question, breaking Ryuji's gaze for a moment only to rub the back of his neck. “They’re, uh… fashion glasses.” 

Akira really did have pretty eyes, though. They contained storm and shadows, but Ryuji didn’t think he had every seen truly grey eyes like his until Akira turned his head to face him once more, and the light from the lanterns nearby made them resemble snow shadowed by evergreens in the night. 

“You have beautiful eyes,” was all Ryuji could say with the sudden dryness of his throat. 

The air had grown thick, and it wasn’t because of the steam still rising around them. It curled Akira’s hair at its ends and glistened his face— Ryuji couldn’t help but take a glance at his lips, parted open and also shining. 

Akira’s face only inched closer to his. Ryuji wanted to kiss him more than he think he had ever wanted anything in his life, but… 

Ryuji turned his head and mock coughed into his wrist, taking an out before it was too late. Too late to stop lying to Akira about why he was _really_ in Inaba, _really_ taking up residence in his inn. The one he might have to close down, and with how it looked to be doing, Ryuji had the feeling that he wouldn’t like the report he needed to write. 

He couldn’t do that to Akira. Not to the guy who took him sledding and introduced him to all his friends like he’d be in Inaba forever. Ryuji had an entire life in the city, and despite how badly he wished he could stay until he was old and grey, he’d have to return to the drab of the city eventually. Back to the job that sent him to the town in the first place. 

It wasn’t Akira. Ryuji wanted nothing more than to surge forward and run his hands through Akira’s silky hair and kiss him senseless, but he knew that doing so when he was lying would make him more of an asshole then he already was. 

It was just Ryuji. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't expecting this to be as exhausting as it is but comments motivate me 👉👈 if ur so inclined


	7. Chapter 7

LeBlanc was as refreshing as ever in the morning, even though the low lights made it as dim as Ryuji first encountered it. 

He was there alone after what could have been the most fitful night of sleep in the world. It wasn’t so awkward after Ryuji so obviously rejected Akira’s pass; It could have been read as anxiety getting the best of him in the moment, but it still lingered in Ryuji’s mind. His heel tapped on the floor with every bounce of his leg. 

Sojiro came by to drop a plate of rice and curry next to Ryuji’s opened laptop. It wasn’t what came to mind when Ryuji thought about what to get for breakfast, but he enjoyed it enough his first day there to crave another helping. Paired with a hot cocoa, which was bittersweet and not because of the drink itself. 

Ryuji mumbled his thanks, and returned to the report in front of him. It was the only reason why he decided to get out of the inn and go to the next best place he knew. There weren’t exactly many places to go to, but the inn was out of question since Ryuji had already run into Makoto and Haru there and the bakery posed as much of a threat. LeBlanc offered Ryuji a replacement for the breakfast he’d inevitably be missing at the inn anyways. 

Besides, he needed an _actual_ change of scenery. Somewhere to sit down and work on his report without being bombarded with constant reminders of the hole he had dug himself into. At that point, it grew deep enough to fit his coffin inside. Rest in peace to his morals, apparently. 

Ryuji had a separate document opened alongside his report outline with scattered notes about anything notable involving the inn. They were general, vague enough to be interpreted positively or negatively depending on how he phrased them. But, he couldn't bring himself to write anything of structure and it was already the twenty third of December... He had three days. 

Ryuji had a job to do— he knew that. He had worked pretty damn hard throughout college to make up for the grades he lacked in high school, it was a part of why he managed to get a decent job straight out of graduation. He had a few friends to get drinks with when weekend evenings got bored, looked over his mom whenever he could, and he had work. It was all so simple before this investigation came in and Akira Kurusu had him questioning everything he used to be so content with doing. _Having._

Ryuji had to figure out how to write a report that wouldn't get him fired but also keep the inn running for at least another year. 

It was easier said than done. 

And Leblanc, despite its comforting food and warm cocoa, could not have been counted on as a safe haven from Akira. 

Ryuji’s back was to the door in the booth he occupied, furthest from the entrance. The booth walls were high up for privacy, and Ryuji guessed the guests now entering couldn’t see him flinch when he heard who it was. 

The unmistakable voices of Makoto and Akira replaced the air right after the bell above the door sang in their arrival. 

Akira, it seemed, had occupied every facet of Ryuji’s life. 

They must not have noticed him behind the tall booth, probably because his light hair was concealed by the beanie on his head. If they did, they evidently didn’t care. Ryuji had completely frozen as the telltale scrape of the barstool interrupted the apparently heated conversation they were immersed in. 

“Akira,  _ again,  _ I’m telling you as your  _ financial advisor— _ “ Makoto began loudly, but Akira audibly dropped his hand on the bar. 

“I know, but you need to see my perspective as my  _ friend _ .” 

Before Makoto’s sharp inhale could continue into a response, the bell above the door rang once more, and another set of feet stomped in. 

“What was the text about files?” The owner of the voice was a female by the sounds of it, high and righteous in its own way. It was followed by another scrape of chair legs against the floor, and Ryuji could only assume she had sat next to where Makoto and Akira were at the end of the bar. 

Ryuji risks a glance to the side, and was immediately met with Sojiro’s unimpressed gaze. Ryuji’s eyes widened on their own accord, the only way he had of silently expressing, ‘ _Please don’t snitch please don’t snitch please don’t snitch_ —’

Sojiro looked back at the three sitting at his bar and for a fleeting moment Ryuji thought it was over for him, but Sojiro only drawled, “We have another guest, you know.” 

Akira quickly reassured, “We’ll be quiet.” 

  
  
They hadn’t thought to spare a second glance at whoever might have been listening in, an overlooked precaution. It wasn’t every day that the owner of an inn was discussing its dire financials in the vicinity of the very person who might have to shut it down, after all. 

They were not, in fact, quiet. 

“Futaba, I’m trying to knock some sense into him. Help. Please,” Makoto tiredly sighed. Ryuji could only imagine how she looked— Probably massaging the bridge of her nose in exasperation, if Ryuji had to make a guess based off of her character. 

The voice from before, who he had to assume was Futaba, chirped once more. “You’re not still letting Inari stay at the inn without paying, are you?” 

  
  
Inari…?

  
  
Akira quieted, and then muttered, “He does the housekeeping.” 

  
  
Ah. Yusuke. 

“You see! Akira, you can’t keep making spur of the moment decisions like this,” Makoto chastised, “Haru and I would be more than happy to lend a hand, but you won’t accept them and it’s a detriment to the inn. Just… I don’t know if it’s a matter of pride or not…” 

Futaba piped in. “Yeah— I did the wipe on corporate’s files for the inn, but that can only last ya so long.” 

  
  
“Right, they’ve been… quiet. I suspect they’re waiting until after Christmas to drop the bomb on you— It’s almost the end of the year, after all. They'll be making final cuts by now.” 

  
  
There went Makoto offering completely logical facts, and yet Ryuji looked far too into the simple statement. The fact that she had got it almost spot on was unnerving on its own, but combined with the fact that he had forced himself to stay frozen for the entirety of the three’s interaction nearby, Ryuji was a wreck. His plate of curry and mug of hot cocoa was quickly cooling beside him, but all he could do was perk his head at the conversation he was so obviously eavesdropping nearby. Why Sojiro hadn’t given him away was a mystery. 

Akira was quiet for most of the conversation, offering his tidbits of information that Makoto would sigh about and, by the sound of a pencil running over paper, jot down. She must have had some folders on her if the sound of paper flipping was any indication. Futaba would interject with her own commentary as well, but Ryuji was also transfixed on what she said about a file wipe earlier. 

If she had somehow bypassed whatever insane amount of protection there probably was in the file system of a big time company, Ryuji vowed to never get on her bad side. She mentioned it a few more times thereafter, but Ryuji couldn’t possibly wrap his head around the idea. If he hadn’t known that the corporate files were erased himself, he wouldn’t have believed that the owner of the young sounding voice would have been able to accomplish such a thing. 

Ryuji didn’t move a single muscle the entire time the conversation drew on. He was lucky he was sitting or else he would have cramped up ages ago, but otherwise didn’t want to risk making any unwanted noise that would have once more alerted the three of their guest. 

Sojiro kept on sending Ryuji amused glances, but otherwise minded his business behind the counter. Ryuji was thankful for it. 

After what felt like ages, Akira was the one to leave his chair first and stalk out of LeBlanc in a stormy silence, leaving Makoto and Futaba to share their discontent together before leaving themselves. The conversation ended on a sour note when they both brought up how detrimental Akira’s kind heart was, and Akira had evidently heard enough. 

Ryuji would have too, if his friends continued to remind him why being a good person was losing him money. Though, the situation had to be more complicated, especially since the inn used to be owned by Akira’s parents. He spoke of them fondly the night before, and Ryuji could have only imagined what a mental struggle it was to balance serving a town of people that loved him and running the one place that he loved back. 

What had Ryuji gotten himself into?

As soon as the door swished behind Makoto and Futaba at their departure, Ryuji unfroze like he had been untagged in a game of freeze tag. He immediately slumped forward, dropping his head onto the empty space of table in front of him after moving his cold plate aside. He ached all over, but a new type of force seized his heart when all the information he had just eavesdropped on completely absorbed— Needless to say, relaxation was the opposite of what he was getting on this trip. 

He heard another shuffling nearby and feared someone had strayed inside the cafe, but the corner of his peripheral revealed Sojiro coming by with a steaming plate of curry and swapping it out with the one that had gone cold. 

“You’re paying for both of these,” Sojiro said gruffly as Ryuji warily raised his head to look down on it. 

“Thanks, Boss.” 

  
  
But Ryuji didn’t have much of an appetite at all. 

It would have been a shame to waste another plate of perfectly good food though, so Ryuji meekly pushed its contents around the plate in hopes it would respark the hunger he had felt before. 

Sojiro had returned to his post behind the counter, and continued to look unimpressed with Ryuji’s anguish. “You should tell him before it’s too late.” 

  
  
“H-How’d you know?” 

“Kid,” Sojiro laughed, “You’ve been starin’ at that laptop for an hour now, it’s not hard to come around and look at what you’re workin’ on. Plus, you were already lying on the first date… I had my suspicions.” 

Ryuji supposed he did look obvious to someone who was already searching for a discrepancy, but it didn’t go to show how his lie held up against someone that seemed to already trust him. The thought only made Ryuji want to curl back up into a ball and pretend like he hadn’t just listened on a very important conversation between Akira and his supposed financial advisors— like his guilt couldn’t have grown any worse. 

“I guess you’re right, Boss. But… Yeah. I should. Thanks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five days til christmas morning!


	8. Chapter 8

After Ryuji finished his food and paid for both the plates he had gotten, he left LeBlanc with his laptop tucked away in his bag and conscious feeling mind numbingly heavy. It was only twelve in the afternoon but he didn’t want to face Akira just yet— Not only did he want to mull over the new information he had seen, but he feared he’d make an ass of himself if he did not otherwise. 

Though, other than the investigation and loosening up, Ryuji was afraid he didn’t exactly have another objective for his trip to Inaba. He supposed he got his fill of relaxation the night before, though it only proved that too much relaxation was doing the opposite of what was intended; A headache was brewing in Ryuji’s temples already. 

He supposed it wouldn’t have hurt to walk around the town a little more. He didn’t have much to explore, what with the general layout of the town seemingly only consisting of small streets and even smaller buildings. Ryuji couldn’t remember the last time he could have looked up into the sky and not have the corners of his vision be framed by towering skyscrapers. It was blue and cloudless, hopefully a testament to how the rest of his day would go. 

Ryuji’s feet moved on their own accord, and when he came back to he found himself in front of Shiho and Ann’s bakery. 

The treats in the display case looked as enticing as they had been the first time. Ryuji supposed it couldn’t have hurt to pop inside and buy something before he got engaged in a conversation with one of Akira’s friends. It was a risk, but it was a risk Ryuji was willing to take if it meant there would be a chocolate croissant in his mouth in three minutes. 

The bell rang familiarly above his head as he walked in, as did the smell of wafting baked goods in the air. Soft music from a radio on the counter played into the relatively empty bakery space, but it wasn’t the overplayed, cover one thousand of a Christmas song that had plagued Ryuji every December. 

Shiho was at the register as she was before, and straightened as soon as she noticed the new customer. “Hi, Ryuji.”    
  


“Hey.” He didn’t think she remembered his name. “Uh, just one chocolate croissant, please.”

  
  
Shiho apologetically informed him, “Oh, sorry, Ann’s making a new batch of the croissants right now. It’ll only take five minutes to finish up, but you can order something else if you’re in a rush.” 

As if on cue, Ann poked her head out the door in the back. “Ryuji!” 

He hoped _she_ would have forgotten his name. No dice. 

She bound over to the counter next to Shiho and leaned over it. “Whatcha up to?” 

“Waitin’ for a croissant.” 

  
  
Ann rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and after that?” 

  
  
Ryuji still wasn’t sure himself. “I dunno. Souvenir shopping, maybe. Not sure where to go.” 

  
  
“I can show you around!”   
  


What was it with Inaba and everyone wanting to tag along when going somewhere? And the last thing Ryuji needed was hanging around another one of Akira’s friends. Who knew what he’d fumble and reveal, but it would have only worsened his guilt along with it. 

“T-That’s alright, I’ll figure it ou—” 

“Nope!” Ann interjected, popping her P. Despite her cheery smile, she looked serious. “If you can use me as your fake girlfriend, I can use you as an excuse to shop.” 

Ryuji winced. God. “Oh, Akira told you about that.” 

  
  
If Ryuji didn’t think he could feel any worse, he was embarrassed all over again. 

“Yeah, he did,” Shiho answered for her. “And Ann’s been looking for a reason to go out all day.” 

  
  
“Sorry, again,” Ryuji had the decency to say sheepishly. 

  
  
Shiho returned to organizing something at the register, but had a coy smile on her face when she hummed, “Mhmm.” 

Ann, completely unphased, only smiled wider. “We’ll leave as soon as you get your croissant.” 

Ryuji had the feeling he couldn’t protest any longer, and nodded his head in defeat.

♨

Ann happily swung her bag as she walked alongside Ryuji down the street. She insisted they stop at a clothes store before she took him to the one souvenir shop in Inaba, but Ryuji hadn’t minded the trip as much as he thought he would. Ann was chatty, but it filled the air that otherwise would have been awkward with how little Ryuji knew of what to talk about with her. She was interesting to listen to, and it was sweet how lovingly she brought up Shiho every other sentence. Plus, her affinity for sweets explained the whole co-owning a bakery with her girlfriend thing, but Ryuji should have guessed that. 

Finally, she led them to a small store advertising Inaba souvenirs in the window. Just the display window was decorated in various Christmas themed gifts, and Ryuji knew he’d have no problem finding something small for his mom and a couple of friends. 

The store was packed with things and not with many people, just like the rest of the town. Ann was already surging in when her eye caught something she liked, leaving Ryuji to awkwardly stroll inside. He was set on finding something simple, and a tall spinning ornament rack seemed like the place to start. 

The baubles were all homemade by the looks of it, with various decorations painted around them. There were a few tall racks of similar ornaments and keychains, and behind it was another rack of various pens and knick-knacks engraved with common names. From between the rows of hung items, Ryuji could see Ann observing the other rack from across from him after the click of her heeled boots slowed. 

“So,” she began, not-at-all-suspiciously. Ryuji had a feeling he already knew what she wanted to bring up, if her tone gave anything away. She was terrible at coming off as casual, that much was sure. “You and Akira, huh?” 

Bingo. 

“I-It’s, uh… What did he tell you?” 

  
  
Ann sighed, “It’s not what he said, but just how he’s acting... _Y'know_ , I haven't seen him this happy in a while. I’m always traveling in and out for shoots and even I noticed, he just looked so happy just bringing you over to the bakery.” 

  
  
Ryuji opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he could have possibly said got stuck in the back of his throat. For better or for worse, Ann had more to say. 

“I’ve known Akira since we were in high school and he’s always been like this little machine, always running around doing favors for anyone who needed them. It’s just gotten worse the older we got, but around Christmas?  _ Sheesh _ . He’s always micromanaging and trying to give everyone their Christmas miracles, but he never lets anyone help him out for a change.”

Ann took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is… he’s letting us take care of things for him for the first time in a long time, and it’s because of you. I… I don’t know what you’re gonna do when you need to leave, but don’t hurt him. You’d never be able to step a foot in Inaba again if you did.”    
  


“Message received,” Ryuji muttered. 

It was evident that Ann was finished with her piece as she walked away, though Ryuji had a sneaking suspicion that it was a part of the reason she insisted she go out with Ryuji in the first place. 

He uneasily sifted through the rest of the rack when he found an ornament his mom would like, and decided to shuffle through the rest of the small store as he mulled over Ann’s… shovel talk? Did it count as a shovel talk when he and Akira weren’t even together? They weren't, right? 

Despite the speech Ann had just given him, she had returned to her cheery self at a rack of t-shirts and was humming to the music playing throughout the store. Ryuji was physically incapable of bouncing back as quickly as her, but tried to ease his nerves as he looked at a wall of Inaba-trinkets. (Did they even get enough visitors to warrant this amount of souvenirs? Maybe Ryuji could buy a little more than he planned.)

He didn’t doubt that every person in Inaba would have personally made it Ryuji’s problem if he so much as laid a finger on Akira in the wrong way. But, thinking about it only reminded him of Ann’s words, quiet sounding but backed by fire. He might have only known her for a couple of days, but even then he could tell that Serious Ann did not emerge often. 

The outing didn’t do anything but complicate the feelings running through his head and show him where the souvenir shop was. 

After Ryuji did a lap around the store and found a few things to take back to the city, he was at the checkout when his eyes caught view of one last gift he needed to buy on the shelf nearby. 

It was perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like naruto this needed some filler BUT tomorrows chapter was my favorite to write


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favorite chapter ngl

A few other stores, plenty of shopping bags collecting onto Ann’s arms, and all of Ryuji’s limbs numbing to the bone, and they declared themselves officially done. Or, Ann sighed and guessed that she’d tired herself out after Ryuji had been dragging his feet behind her for the past hour, but tomato-tomato. 

Ann pushed through the bakery door after they had come to a complete circle around Inaba. Ryuji followed, though only with his one bag of goodies from the first store they stopped at. He offered to take some of the bags off of Ann’s hands, but she joked that it would look like they were dating if he did, and they couldn’t have _that_ after Ryuji had “gone around and told everyone he was dating an Ann already”. Ryuji only reddened and stuttered through yet another apology, but he figured he deserved all the teasing for the rest of his life. Ann sure got a kick out of it, it seemed.

Shiho was still working the front, and somehow didn’t look surprised when Ann shuffled in with all the bags loudly making their entrance known. “I thought you’d hold out on a spree ‘til new years at  _ least _ .” 

“You overestimate me babe, we both know I wouldn’t last.”

Ann was already shuffling in, disregarding the snow she was dragging in on her boots to place all her bags on the counter and lean over to kiss Shiho. Ryuji took the intimate moment to wipe his shoes on the welcome mat and hang his coat on the line of hooks by the door just as Akira popped through the back doorway with a steaming tray in his hands. 

If Ryuji didn’t think the sight of Akira hadn't already made his heart completely stop, he did now. Akira’s turtleneck-sweater combination was as charming as it was the first, second, and millionth time Ryuji had seen it, but combined with the cute apron he had tied around his waist, Ryuji thought he’d overheat and shut down. And with his glasses a little steamed up as well— Ryuji didn’t realize he was staring until Akira broke him out of his momentary trance. 

“Ryuji!” Akira smiled, and it was almost enough for Ryuji to forget his blunder the night before. And that morning. Ryuji should stop doing that. 

Yet he felt a smile grow on his face before he realized it. 

“Whatcha got there?” Akira asked while organizing the cookies on the pan into the glass display. 

“Souvenirs for Ma. Figured she’d be pissed if I finally got outta Tokyo and didn’t get her anything to show for it.” 

Akira laughed, and straightened up to drop the tray on the counter. He kept the apron on though, and Ryuji just noticed the swipe of flour dusting just about everywhere; Some had gotten on his cheek. It took every fiber of his being not to reach out and wipe it off.

Ann grabbed her bags once more to sidle over behind the counter and presumably leave it in the back room that Ryuji had yet to see. From the doorway, she shouted to Shiho, “How’s the pie doing?”

  
  
“Pie?” Ryuji warily asked. 

Akira cocked his head at Ryuji's question, before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! You don’t know about the pie competition!” 

It caught Shiho’s attention, who turned to Akira to exclaim, “The man hangs out with you every day and you somehow didn’t tell him about our traditions?”

“Listen! I got so used to everyone here knowing everything, don’t blame me!” Akira humorously scoffed. Regardless, he turned his attention back to Ryuji like Shiho wasn’t snickering and said, “Every year on Christmas Eve Inaba has a pie making competition before the tree lighting ceremony. It gets pretty heated— last year, Ann and Shiho beat the PTO moms for the first time in years and they didn’t come to the bakery for a month.”

“Heated, huh?” 

“And we’re gonna do it again!” Ann shouted loudly from the back. She poked her head out the doorway. “Our pie is the best damn pie in Inaba, I stand by that.” 

Ryuji chuckled and nodded his head towards Akira, “And you? Ya making a pie too?” 

“I can’t,” Akira sheepishly sighed, “...I’m friends with the judges and everyone says I’m not allowed to join.” 

  
  
Ryuji barked out an unexpected laugh— Of  _ course  _ Akira was barred from the competition. He got over his surprise a moment later, but his voice was still tinged with amusement. “It’s a shame I didn’t know then, I make the best pie in all of  _ Tokyo. _ ”

  
  
He let smugness seep into his tone; He did make a pretty damn good pie. It was how he and his mom made extra money around the holidays in high school— He perfected the art of making one after he and his mom spent weeks making and selling them to neighbors and colleagues who wanted to buy a treat for dinners and celebrations. It earned them a pretty penny when they needed it, and it was one of the better memories the holiday season ever offered him. 

Ann must have smelt the suggestion of competition from the back, and Ryuji had to admit that he put it there first. She stuck her head out the doorway once more. “I  _ highly  _ doubt that.” 

“Nuh-uh. Best in the world, I’d say.”

  
  
“Mhmm.” Ann crossed her arms, obviously taking the bait. “Join, then. I wanna try this world famous pie of yours.” 

  
  
Not what Ryuji expected. He was still leaning over, elbows on the counter in front of him, but lost his cocky edge for a second. “How the hell am I gonna do that? I don’t have ingredients or…” 

  
  
He trailed off when Ann raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Right. They were literally standing in a bakery. 

“Don’t ya have work to do? I’m not gonna get in your way if I don’t hafta.” 

  
  
“What? Scared already?”

  
  
Ryuji never claimed to be a mature man. He might have had a boring office job and bitched about the cold like a grandpa, his fire for silly competitions sat at a simmer since high school. He was constantly trying to prove himself capable, even when it came to things he was most definitely not capable of. 

Not that he couldn’t bake a kick ass pie. He could have put pie-making on his resume. 

He scoffed. “I ain’t scared.”

  
  
Ann smirked, “Ooh, we got the cool city boy words out of him. Okay then, you and Akira make a pie, and we’ll see who wins tomorrow. Sounds good?” 

  
  
Akira meekly raised his hand. “I’m not allowed to enter, remember?” 

  
  
“We’ll just enter it under Ryuji’s name, singles are allowed.” Ann looked like she didn’t plan to back down, and there was no way in hell Ryuji was going to either. 

“Fine. We have a deal,” Ryuji said, hoping he looked as determined as he felt when he stuck his hand out to shake. Ann took it in hers and firmly shook it, thus sealing Ryuji’s fate for the day: He did no work on the investigation, and would be baking a pie with Akira instead. 

Since it was the 23rd, Ann and Shiho were already planning on closing the bakery early. There weren’t any guests inside anyways, so Ryuji helped out with closing and cleaning some of the front as thanks for letting him and Akira use the kitchen in the back. 

It was the first time Ryuji had seen it when Ann and Shiho took them to the kitchen. Apparently Akira helped out whenever he could so he already knew the ins and outs of it, but Ryuji was mesmerized just by the sheer amount of appliances they had at their disposal. Ann told him that the bakery was in the making for years before they opened it, so she and Shiho saved up like hell to have a fully equipped bakery at their disposal. It helped that they kept it relatively clean as well, though Ryuji had a sneaking suspicion that it was more of Shiho’s doing than Ann’s. 

Eventually, the two left Akira and Ryuji the keys to the place with a reminder to lock up when they left, and an extra reminder that they were most definitely not going to make a better pie than them. 

Ryuji idled back in the kitchen, Akira on his tail. He was still a little awestruck at some of the appliances, having gotten far too used to his own handheld mixer at home to have fathomed buying an electric one, when he was lightly hit in the back of the head.

“What gives—” he already began to shout, before whirling around to a frilly apron at his feet and Akira’s cheeky smile. 

“You ready to make this pie?” 

♛

Ryuji thought it was normal for his arms to hurt like hell every time he baked, but it turns out that most of the exhaustion was self-inflicted. He refused to upgrade his appliances because he technically didn’t  _ have  _ to, but it would have made the baking process more fun for how often he did it. 

He had the entire system down to a T. He already directed Akira to work on the three-berry filling for the pie and he was currently watching over it as it simmered in a pot on the stove. Somehow Ann and Shiho were stocked up on blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries, a fact Ryuji couldn’t bring himself to question when it worked out so perfectly in his favor. This pie in particular was the one that was the most requested from the Sakamoto family around the holidays, and he’d take it for all it was worth. 

He himself was working on the pie crust, which was a tad bit more of a complicated process with the prize-winning method of making it, but it would be worth it in the end. 

He and Akira had been working in relative silence, especially when Ryuji immersed himself in the entire process, but they were practically hip-to-hip regardless. Akira was the one to break the barely there tension, hip checking Ryuji as he was combining the last of the ice water (listen, it worked) into the crust dough, then switching to using his hands to knead it in. 

“When’d you become such a pie expert, huh? I thought businessmen weren’t allowed to have souls.” 

Ryuji hip checked Akira in return, once more conscious of the apron Akira had given him to wear. It was a dark red and frilly at all of the edges— Ann’s, apparently. Akira had gotten a good kick of it when Ryuji first put it on, especially at the heart shaped cut at the top really giving Ryuji the image of masculinity. 

“Ma and I used to make ‘em to sell to neighbors around the holidays. Everyone liked them, wanted to bring them to dinners and pretend they made it themselves,” Ryuji shrugged, still careful about how he was kneading the small ball of dough he’d created. The trick was not to overwork it, just half it as soon as all the ingredients had smoothly combined, and it would be ready for him to chuck it in the refrigerator for an hour. Normally the process could have taken an entire day, but Ryuji wasn’t anything if he wasn’t efficient when it came down to it. 

Akira hummed at Ryuji’s answer, and only returned to stirring the simmering pot. Ryuji would tell him to lower the heat and stir occasionally in a minute, but the berries inside needed a little more time to really soften since they were only just taken out of the freezer.

Akira’s silence was a little out of place, though. Despite only knowing him for a few days, Ryuji already knew that Akira could talk enough to replace all the air in the room. His lack of passing conversation wasn’t as uncomfortable as Ryuji expected it to be, though; he liked Akira’s company by his side, close enough to nudge if he wanted to. Just his presence was enough. 

“Alright,” Ryuji muttered after he’d finished with his pie crust dough. He carefully split it into two and retrieved the plastic wrap he’d taken out earlier to wrap the dough balls in it and place them inside Ann and Shiho’s impressively sized fridge. 

He returned to the island he and Akira were working on to watch the pot steadily boil. He was going to say something, but Akira was threading his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck in an attempt to peel it off his skin, which was already glistening from the heat of the stove. Ryuji tried not to make it obvious that he was watching as Akira untied his apron and set it on the counter, only so he could pull off the sweater he was wearing and reveal the turtleneck he’d had on under it the entire time. 

Ryuji wanted to ignore it— the strip of skin above his waistband that revealed itself when Akira’s arms were over his head, somehow more intimate to observe than when Akira was literally almost naked next to him the night before. That, and how glad Ryuji suddenly was that Akira wore a sweater over his turtlenecks, because he would have been drooling at him every time he looked at the guy. Tight, form fitting and somehow more attractive when Ryuji knew exactly what it looked like under it. 

Ryuji had to pick his jaw up off the floor before he attempted speaking, and tried not to think about how dry his mouth was. “O-Okay, turn the stove to the lowest possible setting and we’re gonna leave it like that for an hour. Stir every once in a while.”

  
  
“An hour?” Akira asked warily. Ryuji knew how it sounded, leaving something to burn for that long, but there was a method to his and his mothers madness whose technique they perfected when Ryuji was in middle school. 

“You’re talking to the best pie maker in all of Japan man, it’ll be fine. We could use tea lights if we needed to, but the point is keeping all the filling a little warm as the dough is setting in the fridge.” 

“If you say so,  _ chef.”  _ Akira punctuated the  _ chef  _ with a dip into the bag of flour open nearby and a moment later, a pinch of flour was thrown in Ryuji’s direction. More specifically— directly onto the front of his sweater. 

Ryuji gasped, “Dude!”

  
  
But he was already reaching into the bag of flour himself, gathering what was considerably more than a pinch and launching it at Akira’s front. Two could play at that game, and Akira’s shocked face made it all the more worth it. His chin was dusted in flour, but the turtleneck had received the brunt of the damage. 

Ryuji wasn’t sure which one of them threw themselves into action first, but they both leapt for the back of flour between them to retaliate. The issue lie in the fact that they both grabbed either side of the paper bag, and attempting to pull it in their direction only resulted in the loud  _ RIIIIIIIIP  _ to resonate through the entire room.

Ryuji didn’t let that stop him, though. The flour that now sat in a giant pile on the now-ripped bag only gave him more room to grab another fistful and make a critical hit to Akira’s face. The laugh that left Ryuji could only have been described as harking— Akira’s suddenly blank expression, combined with the fact that it and his glasses were completely and utterly coated in white flour only made him look like an overzealous mob boss with a particular taste for cocaine. 

Tears streamed from the corners of Ryuji’s eyes. He was so overcome with how ridiculous Akira looked and how blurry his vision turned from the tears to notice in time, but he sobered up the moment he realized that Akira had been awfully quiet for a second too long to mean anything good. 

Ryuji looked up to Akira once more, except this time he had no glasses. They had done a fair job of shielding his eyes from the flour, as well as leaving a distinct glasses-shaped patch of clear skin in its wake. Ryuji almost dissolved into another fit of laughter, but Akira’s expression had turned unreadable and for a moment, Ryuji realized that maybe Akira wasn’t laughing with him for a reason. 

“Uh, ‘Kira? you okay?” he tentatively asked. The prospect that Akira could have been hurt forced him to calm down more than anything. 

But then Akira, the little goddamn minx, smiled. He smiled, and Ryuji realized a second too late that there was a fistful of flour in his palm when he said, “ _Gotcha_.” 

And Ryuji was pummeled with flour to the face as soon as the words left Akira’s mouth. 

He felt the momentary shock Akira must have frozen with, but was flicking the flour off of his shut eyes a moment later. He must have looked as ridiculous as Akira did, but as soon as he could see without risking flour falling straight onto his eyeballs, he and Akira were locked in a stare that could have scared bulls off. 

Akira was the one who whirled around and sprinted away, and Ryuji immediately gave chase. 

Akira was already on the opposite side of the kitchen island when Ryuji thought to move, effectively out of Ryuji’s range. “What’re you gonna do, Sakamoto?” he cockily goaded. The imp. 

“I’m gonna kick yer ass,” Ryuji growled, albeit it was with a large smile he felt pulling at his jaw. His end-all goal was to turn Akira’s hair completely white, really. He snatched two fistfuls of flour that time, completely prepared to fulfill his goal if it was the last thing he did. 

Akira attempted to juke him out every single time he made to run in one direction on either side of the counter, but finally jolted backwards so he was running into the main part of the bakery instead. As much as Ryuji didn’t want to track in the mess there, Akira  _ did  _ go there first— 

Ryuji was sprinting into the space behind the counter, only just catching sight of Akira literally leaping over the counter like he was in an action movie. Unfortunately, Ryuji wasn’t built like he was 16 years old anymore, but did his best to run around to the other side of the counter without sacrificing too much of the flour slipping out of his fingers.

Akira realized his mistake soon enough though— unable to run back into the kitchen, and outside being too cold to even consider going there, Akira backed himself into the wall of the slim bakery floor. 

It gave Ryuji a clear path to take Akira’s hesitance and use the time to fly forward and drop the flour exactly where it was desired: right on top of Akira’s head. 

Akira’s yelp was loud as the flour coated his hair white and fell down the sides of his head. 

Ryuji didn’t feel too bad, though. The laugh Akira let out was almost as cute as the look of surprise that overtook his expression before, and Ryuji couldn’t help but laugh with him. Though, a moment later Akira was grabbing the flower that hadn’t slid off his head and made a lunge for Ryuji. 

Ryuji caught Akira’s wrists before he did so, and they giggled through a fake wrestle as Akira struggled against Ryuji’s restraints and made a last ditch attempt to flick his hand and hope some of the flour would fall onto Ryuji. 

It wasn’t until a baited moment later, when Ryuji had sobered up and was panting for air, and Akira was hiccupping from laughter that they realized their position: Ryuji still held Akira’s wrists in the air, but the space between them had grown smaller and smaller before they could stop it. Really, all it would have taken was a shuffle forward and their noses would bump. 

And yet, Ryuji couldn’t tear his gaze away from Akira’s wide eyes. Even if they were framed by flour that stuck to his skin, Ryuji was too occupied with how small Akira’s wrists felt in his hands, how easily Ryuji could just lean forward and… 

“We should, uh… probably stir those berries in the pot,” Ryuji awkwardly mumbled.

♛

They were lucky the berries and dough had to sit for a long time, because it was a pain cleaning up all the flour they had thrown just about everywhere. In hindsight they shouldn’t have been throwing flour around like they were snowballs, but Ryuji was too caught up in the moment to consider how much work it was clearing it up now. 

Akira must have shared the same sentiment, because Ryuji heard him groan from where he was sweeping in the bakery. 

“Why did we do this again?” Akira called out from behind the wall. 

“‘Cause you’re an asshole and started it,” Ryuji laughed. He was manning the kitchen, keeping track of the berries very tediously simmering in the pot and cleaning all the flour they had gotten on the counter and floor. 

Ryuji could hear the roll of Akira’s eyes from where he was, “Yeah, yeah, but I totally won that fight.” 

  
  
“In your dreams, Kurusu.” 

A few more minutes passed of their cleaning, and it was finally time to take the pie crust dough out of the freezer and roll it out. It was an entire process, just as making the three-berry filling was, and Ryuji got to work on that while Akira finished up. 

He flattened out the dough on a large piece of parchment paper with ease, rolling it to a desired thinness just as Akira shuffled in with a broom in hand. His hair was still completely dusted in white, as was his turtleneck, but it was only with all the stubborn flour that refused to get out when they shook their hair out over the trash. Ryuji must have looked the exact same, added with the uncomfortable sensation of flour that snuck under his sweater. It would need multiple washes to fully get out, he knew. 

While Akira looked like he was about to grumble about something, but brightened when he saw Ryuji flipping the pie crust into the baking pan they had set out before. “It’s ready?” 

  
  
“Should be,” Ryuji answered, now concentrated on carefully trimming the edges that had spilled out of the pan and tucking the rest of the dough snugly into the pan. 

In no time, Ryuji pulled on a pair of oven mitts to slowly pour in the berry mixture into the pan. It was all going according to plan when it came to the pie itself— the mixture was just gooey and warm enough to hold a general shape that he’d need to spread throughout the pan, and it was exactly what he was going for when he simmered it for so long. He might have been shit at science, but food science was a specialty of his. 

Akira leaned over the counter, elbows on the marble, as Ryuji finished weaving strips of dough over the top of the pie so they could throw it into the oven. An egg wash, a sprinkle of sugar on top, and it was close to completion. 

“‘Kay, so,” Ryuji began as he tucked the pie into the preheated oven, “It sits in here for twenty five minutes, and then we take it out to put tin foil over the top, and put it back for another twenty.” 

  
  
He gave the pie one last look over to make sure nothing seemed out of place, though he doubted it was. He could make one of these pies in his sleep if he needed to, its process came naturally. Finally, he shut the oven door and let the heat do the final job of making his pie perfect, and straightened up with a sigh. 

His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and he was glad they were, because it was hot as hell in the kitchen. The oven, combined with running around like a pair of children, must have done that. 

Akira looked as tired as Ryuji felt, emphasized by his lack of response. Instead, he offered a sigh that matched Ryuji’s, though began to frown a moment later. His brow was furrowed, though he looked less frustrated about something than he was just deep in thought, spacing out at the wall past Ryuji’s head. 

“You alright?” Ryuji tentatively asked. A part of him braced himself for what might have been The Great Flour Fight: The Sequel, as he’d been fooled by such a look before. Except, Akira’s shoulders fell a moment later and Ryuji was sure he wasn’t going to be ambushed. 

Akira rubbed at his eyes, and returned to his previous position. Slumped, staring at the wall. 

“I was just thinking… can I ask you something personal?” 

  
  
The fear that seized Ryuji’s heart wasn’t unlike the panic that held him by the heart that morning, and the morning before when he spoke to Makoto and Haru. He did his best to remain calm on the outside though, and answered, “Shoot.” 

Akira rested his head to the side, the cogs evidently whirring in his head as he figured out how to put what he wanted to say. If Ryuji’s heartrate wasn’t spiking from anxiety, he would have found the view endearing. 

“You… You said you’ve never had a good Christmas. You always look annoyed about the Christmas decorations everywhere even when you don’t realize you’re doing it, and I’d expect you to wanna spend Christmas with your family, so… How come you don’t like Christmas?” 

  
  
Ryuji’s chest constricted for another reason now— he had expected to be asked the worst, or be sussed out and have his entire investigation destroyed, but the question on its own was still… personal. If he decided to answer, it would have been a line he had yet to cross with anyone outside of his mom and a few friends from middle school back at home. It wasn’t as if it was supposed to be a grand secret he’d been purposely hiding, but telling  _ Akira… _ that was another line, on top of all the ones he had already left in the dust ages ago. 

He could have dodged the question, or said he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Ah.” Ryuji heavily sighed, one that rattled his ribcage in preparation for what he could have said, and continued, “It’s, uh, kinda complicated. Growing up with the, uh— Growin’ up with the old man wasn’t easy. He wasn’t too nice to my Ma and I, but he’d always be home the most for Christmas and, y’know… we spent most of the season hidin’ from him.” 

Ryuji didn’t look at Akira as he spoke, refusing to meet his eye and possibly see pity in them. It was the last thing he wanted. “Bastard died when I was thirteen. Uh, on Christmas. So it’s never been a good time, honestly, but Ma and I would do gifts and kinda just keep to ourselves the entire time. Nothing to celebrate when we never had a good Christmas, y’know? Always feels wrong...” 

A charged moment passed, and Ryuji feared Akira was giving him a look.  _ The Look.  _ But instead, Akira said, “Well. That sucks.” 

  
  
An unexpected laugh bubbled out of Ryuji at Akira’s deadpan response, and Ryuji finally looked over at Akira to see the guy panickingly realizing how what he just said sounded like. 

“N-No, wait, I mean—”

  
  
“Nah,” Ryuji interrupted him, “That’s literally the best thing you could have said. None of that pity shit, I’m over it. 

Akira relaxed in relief. “Well. It does suck, huh?”

  
  
“Yeah,” Ryuji chuckled, “It’s whatever, but y’know. Never really understood the spirit of the whole thing.”

  
  
“Maybe you will, one day,” Akira said, which was as unexpected as unexpected responses to finding out a dude’s dead dad was what ruined Christmas. “Y’know, it’s cheesy but Christmas isn’t all about being in the spirit, or whatever. It’s about being kind, valuing what you already have and giving back. I mean, I bet you value your mom a ton, right? And... you could always make new traditions. _Make_ a reason to have a good Christmas.” 

  
  
Ryuji lifted his head at Akira’s sentiment, one he’d heard thousands of times before and somehow— it was different when it came from Akira. Akira, who apparently worked himself to the bone during the holidays just to give back, who took in his parents inn and did his best to keep it running so they could retire. Akira caught his eyes and only smiled, a pleasant quirk of his lips that sent Ryuji’s heart into overdrive. 

It wasn’t like Akira said anything revolutionary, but maybe it was the way he said it, how sure of himself he looked as he did so. 

“Yeah. Thanks, 'Kira.”

  
  
Akira’s smile only stretched wider, and it expanded Ryuji’s heart three sizes larger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lets play the "how many times can cell cockblock these two" game
> 
> here's the [pie recipe](https://tastesbetterfromscratch.com/triple-berry-pie/) :-D


	10. Chapter 10

Christmas Eve was just as eventful as Akira had mentioned. Such came with a town who waited until the very last minute to do any Christmas activities, but Ryuji felt right at home with the bustle of the square that greeted him that evening. 

Ryuji’s head spun as he looked around; the evening before, he and Akira had finished their pie. Or, technically, it was only listed under Ryuji’s name. It came out of the oven just as he expected, lightly browned on the top, and the filling was gooey between the slots of the woven dough. At the moment, it was sitting at a table right next to the Christmas tree in the center. Two of the judges were people Ryuji vaguely recognized— the mayor, and the gruff guy who owned the gun shop that Akira brought him to before. 

It seemed like all of the town had congregated there; most likely for the competition and tree lighting ceremony that would follow. 

Akira was at its side, nervously eying the judges who were currently sampling every pie lined on the table. 

“What’re you so nervous for?” Ryuji hip-checked him, and Akira rolled his eyes. “It’s just a pie.”

  
  
Akira rolled his eyes. “You talked big smack with Ann for it to be ‘just a pie’, y’know.”

Ryuji supposed that much was true. Ann and Shiho were hovering somewhere closer to the table, glancing at the pies and taking in their competition. It was all in good fun at the end of the day, and Ryuji would have rather been talking big game about something as silly as a pie than anything else. 

Knots of people passed by them in the square. Not only was the competition playing out in the center, but the sides of the street were lined with booths for food and various games, not unlike a summer festival. The main difference resided in everyone's attire and the surrounding decorations. If Ryuji thought he was surrounded in Christmas cheer in its most potent form before, it got ten times more intense by Christmas Eve. The string lights hung up on every booth and between every lamp post glimmered against the growing evening; the sun set far too soon in the winter, but it provided a nice backdrop to set the cheery mood of the celebration. Every bumbling passerby was bundled up to fight the cold; Even Ryuji had on the most layers he was sure he’d ever worn: His scarf wrapped around his neck and pulled up to hide most of his mouth, while his beanie stretched to completely cover his ears. That, tied in with the fact that he was wearing three shirts under his sweater, under his coat, and Ryuji was relatively warm. Save for his uncovered hands, of course. He never did get around to buying gloves.

Akira looked in his element as always. He was barely phased by the cold from where, not with his usual turtleneck-sweater-puffy jacket-heavy boots ensemble Ryuji had grown to be charmed by. Akira was a country boy, through and through. 

Ryuji couldn’t shake the fact that they kept on receiving lingering glances every time a new set of a few people passed by them and realized Akira was hanging out with someone they hadn’t recognized. Ryuji could only imagine what they thought about him- about his bleached hair, clothes far too ill equipped for the location. Nevermind that he was a completely fresh face as well, though something told him that it wasn't as surprising now that he had been there for a few days. 

It only worsened Ryuji’s guilt a little as well. He knew what it looked like, he wasn’t dumb. He and Akira standing so closely, Akira focusing his attention onto one person when Ryuji had to assume he would be all over the place around this time. 

It weighed heavily on his conscience. He knew what he had to do, but—

...He worked on the report. The evening before, when he and Akira parted ways after baking the pie. Maybe a little that morning. (Maybe a lot that morning). 

Ryuji added in the pictures, and began writing up most of what he’d been thinking about in passing moments during the last few days. It was Akira’s resolve that pushed him to sit down and do it, even if he felt backhanded even writing it, the words came easily now that he had time to collect his thoughts properly. 

But now he was supposed to be focusing on Akira and their pie that was supposed to win the competition. 

Just as Ryuji physically shook the thoughts out of his head, Akira nudged his side and nodded towards the direction of the table.  A new crowd gathered around it as the voice of the mayor boomed through the microphone they had set up in front. 

“Welcome everyone to the twenty seventh annual pie competition of Inaba!” 

Ryuji joined in the clapping that rose around him, and spared a glance at Akira, who looked more excited than Ryuji could have expected about the matter. 

“Today we have our usual line up of fantastic pies from you all, with the exception of one new visitor, Ryuji Sakamoto! Thank you for joining in the festivities, Sakamoto-kun!”

The last thing Ryuji expected was to be addressed directly, especially on the microphone in front of everyone. Ryuji only burned up and waved at the round of applause that rose at the mayors announcement— Hell, Ryuji still couldn’t remember the man's name. 

Akira was giggling at Ryuji’s expression and leaned over to murmur in his ear, “I bet you forgot his name.” 

  
  
“Sh-Shuddup!” 

How Akira knew, Ryuji had no idea. But, Akira wasn’t a complete asshole— he leaned in once more. “It’s Yoshida.” 

  
  
Right! Mayor Yoshida. 

Yoshida continued speaking after the clapping died down. “Well,” he began, and looked at the other two judges with him, “I think I speak for all three of us when I say it was a very difficult decision this year— somehow you all manage to outdo yourselves every year! But, without a further ado…”

  
  
For whatever reason, Ryuji felt himself shift in anticipation. Logically it was just a silly competition, but a part of Ryuji felt like he needed to prove his pie baking abilities in front of all these people, like he just needed to be deemed worthy to have even entered what seemed like a sacred town tradition. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't even his place. 

He and Akira were shoulder to shoulder now, Akira having not moved away after leaning in, and Ryuji felt him positively buzzing as well. 

“In third place, we have… the PTO association of Yasogami High School!”

As the applause grew, Ryuji heard a small grumble from a group of older adults standing relatively close to them. They must have been upset about being demoted from second place to third in a year, but that meant— 

“Second or third,” Akira nudged him once more. 

Ryuji was already teeming with a small bout of nerves. 

Yoshida, thankfully, was quick to continue. “Congratulations. Well, I’m also very happy to announce our top two contestants this year… Ann and Shiho, as well as…” 

  
  
Ryuji, for how silly the competition was, still held his breath.

  
  
“...and Sakamoto-kun!” 

  
  
And he let it out. 

  
  
Akira cheered, somehow more excited about the nomination than Ryuji was. Not that Ryuji wasn’t happy though— the smile that stretched his lips, thankfully hidden behind his scarf, almost hurt. 

“Top two!” Akira whooped. 

Ann and Shiho stood a few feet in front of them, separated by a swath of the crowd. Ann was petty enough to turn around and search Ryuji out, locking eye contact and sliding her finger against her neck in a throat-slitting gesture. Fine, Ryuji could act like a high schooler too. He stuck his tongue out in retaliation. 

“Now, for the winner of this year's competition…”

  
  
Out of respect, the townspeople offered their own drumroll to accompany the tension in the air. Ryuji wrung his hands out over his lap, unknowingly so. 

“... Ann and Shiho, for the second year in a row!”

  
  
“Damnit!” 

  
  
♛

Ann gloated, and then she gloated some more. If Ryuji thought they were being childish, nothing beat them bickering like a pair of school children arguing over what the best Pokémon was. Shiho wasn’t any better despite how pleasant she looked, but she limited her smugness to raising a cocky eyebrow at Akira when he deflated at the announcement. 

Though, Yoshida  _ did  _ later come up to Ryuji to tell him it was a very difficult decision to make, so Ryuji took it in stride. It was still all in good fun, though Ann declared her and Shiho had bragging rights for the rest of time, and Ryuji admittedly could have done with something to restore his pride. 

Regardless, the festivities progressed. 

Ryuji let Akira lead him around the booths that were set up, though he was conscious about their proximity the entire time. Akira’s arm brushed directly against his with every step they took, their hands were inches apart, but neither made the move to intertwine them. The tension was almost as bad as the anticipation to hear the results of the competition. 

It didn’t matter, Ryuji supposed. Not— No. He knew. It shouldn't have mattered. 

The liveliness of the town people was enough to take his mind off of it, though. For once, the Christmas music playing throughout the square didn’t bother him, not when everyone looked so happy just to be there. Akira would occasionally stop to greet someone, but otherwise it seemed that every passerby knew to leave Akira alone for the evening. Ryuji was partly glad for it, partly embarrassed that he was the one exception to the “Bother Akira” rule everyone seemed to have whenever Akira was within a fifteen mile radius of them. 

An hour must have passed, but Ryuji wasn’t keeping track. He hadn’t touched his phone all day, a habit he never thought he’d kick. Maybe it was wanting to keep all of his attention on his surroundings that did it. It was when he only just noticed how worn his legs felt that he realized that he’d been standing up for most of the evening. 

Thankfully though, now that the day had descended into complete darkness, it was time for the tree lighting ceremony. 

Now more crowded than ever, everyone gathered around the tree after it was announced on the microphone. The table before had been moved long ago, which left everyone to cramp up as close to the tree as they could. It was completely unlit, dark between the branches and truthfully a little boring when the string lights wrapped around it weren’t turned on. The reflective ornaments only received help from the far away lights on the rest of the square, though far from enough to give it any effect. 

“Please stay put, as we are turning off all the lights in the square!”

  
  
The townspeople buzzed at the announcement, but it didn’t stop a few people gasping in surprise when all the lights of the lamps and hung lights above them slowly turned off, fading away one by one. 

It was difficult to adjust his eyes to the dark, but Ryuji didn’t mind when he felt Akira’s hand searching for his. He grabbed onto Akira’s fingers to tell him he was there, but Akira took it as an invitation to intertwine them. 

Ryuji should have pulled it away. 

He didn’t. Akira’s gloved hand was warm against his bare one. With their fingers slotted so perfectly together, like their hands were made for one another, Ryuji swore he could feel his heartbeat in his palm. Could Akira?

  
  
Ryuji only saw the dark outline of the crowd in front of him moving their heads around, felt the occasional brush of someone passing by his shoulders. He and Akira were right in the eye of the storm. 

Admittedly, Ryuji’s mind was a little hazy. He felt simultaneously overwhelmed and underwhelmed, overtaken by the sensation of waiting when he didn’t know what it was for. It wasn’t for the tree, because Ryuji vaguely registered the countdown from everyone surrounding him. His ears rumbled though, and it wasn’t the beanie covering them that made it sound like he was in the middle of the ocean. 

And then, there was a swell of music in the background, and the lights on the tree all turned on at once. 

Ryuji never cared much for Christmas trees, or decorations, or music. Anything pertaining to the season was always something he rolled his eyes at. He’d wondered if it was the capitalistic nature of the holiday when it came to the city that filled everyone with fake cheer and made them want to participate in all the festivities, fake and generic as anything that was commodified.    


But Ryuji understood in that moment, enough for it to count. 

When he tore his eyes away from the beauty of the glowing tree, Ryuji only saw smiles grow on the faces of those standing next to him, heard the excited chatter and cheer as the lights lit up everyone's silhouettes and Ryuji could see it all properly. No one really had a reason to be excited about a tree, but maybe it wasn’t the tree. Maybe it was because everyone was together, all gathered on Christmas Eve to celebrate the season properly. Maybe it was the anticipation for the next day, or that they’ve held off on festivities to keep it special every single year. 

Ryuji’s chest constricted. 

It wasn’t fair. To— To Akira, to  _ him.  _ What was he doing here? In Inaba, intruding on something that felt so sacred to this one town, where everyone knew everyone and were clearly tight knit, something Ryuji had never seen, ever. The last place Ryuji would see people rejoice would be the city, much less the company that was the whole reason he even ended up in Inaba. 

He turned to Akira, trying hard to ignore how his stomach twisted at how  _ pretty _ Akira looked with the light glowing on his features. 

“H-Hey, Akira, I gotta tell y--mmph!” 

  
  
Before Ryuji could make the devastating confession, Akira completely closed the distance between them and tilted his head to fit his lips against Ryuji’s. 

Ryuji froze. He should pull away.  _ He should pull away.  _

He told himself he wouldn’t kiss Akira until he knew, wouldn’t cross the line when there was no way to come back from it. 

But… it was Akira who caught him off guard. 

Then, the tension snapped like a violin string held too taut, when Ryuji’s hands flew up to cup Akira’s face and he kissed _back_. It was like gasping for air after being underwater for too long, like old Christmas lights flickering on after being stored away in a cardboard box for a decade. He felt so warm under Ryuji’s hands, from where he had his arms thrown around Ryuji’s neck and closed  _ all  _ the space between them. 

Now that Ryuji began, he didn’t think he’d ever want to stop. But, a man needed to breathe, and Ryuji reluctantly tore himself away for air. 

His mind was hazy once more, but not for the reasons that plagued him before. Akira looked much the same; gazing at Ryuji through half-lidded eyes, too dazed to fully close his mouth. 

Which brought Ryuji to… “You aren’t wearing your glasses?” 

  
  
Ryuji didn’t realize that he had been looking at Akira without the obstruction of the glass over his eyes until then. Akira looked like he just remembered as well. 

“Oh, I… I don’t think I need them anymore.” 

  
  
Ryuji’s lips buzzed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it happened, i repeat, IT HAPPENED 
> 
> also can i just say i didn't expect this to be as long as it turned out, i started writing thinking i'd get it to like 20k and be done with it but PHEW anyways
> 
> happy christmas eve eve for those who celebrate! otherwise, happy december 23rd <3


	11. Chapter 11

Ryuji much preferred the inn like this: warm, inviting, and full of laughter as Akira’s friends took residence on the couches around the fireplace. 

A storm had begun almost as soon as the ceremony had drawn to an end, after everyone had left to the warmth of their houses. It was lucky enough for it to have hit just as the festivities ended; A real blizzard, if Ryuji had ever seen or heard of one. Even from inside, wind whipped outside and made the structure whine under its pressure. 

They all decided to spend the rest of their Christmas Eve in the inn’s common room. They all, as in Ann and Shiho cozied up on one end of a couch, Makoto and Haru on the other, while Mishima and Yusuke were sitting a little too close somewhere near to the fireplace. Ryuji got to meet the ever elusive Futaba as well, a woman a couple of years younger than them, and vibrant as ever as she hovered around them.

They were all a couple of glasses of mulled wine into the evening, and the air reflected the haze that had relaxed them. 

And currently, under Ryuji’s arm was Akira snuggled into his side, arms wrapped around his waist as everyone animatedly conversed. Ryuji wasn’t sure who kept on holding the other tighter, but he was sure that if he tried to get up then he and Akira would move with him like a singular unit, legs dragging on the floor and all. 

Ryuji would tell him.

Just… not now. 

Not now that Akira ditched his glasses and looked like he was positively glowing. He’d look up at Ryuji threw his long eyelashes while they talked, and Ryuji was filled with so much warmth from the inside out that he could probably step into the storm outside and not feel a thing. His lips were still buzzing, and the euphoria had spread to the very tips of his fingers and toes. He felt like he was floating. 

Futaba bounded over to them, supposedly with something on her phone that Ann was loudly protesting. She flopped herself next to Ryuji and shoved the screen right under his nose, cackling at Ann, who was now pulling herself up to personally take the phone out of Futaba’s hands. 

Ryuji understood why when he looked down at the picture presented to him. It had to be of Ann and Akira in high school if the matching uniforms were anything to go by. Ann was taking the selfie with what was probably a digital camera, bringing the eye to her tall blonde pigtails and cheesy smile, and Akira hiding behind her. Oddly enough Akira looked the same as ever, even if his hair covered his eyes a little more and his glasses were a little larger. 

Though, upon a closer look behind the glasses…

“You wore eyeliner?” Ryuji laughed. 

“ _Nooo_ ,” Akira immediately whined, burying his face into Ryuji’s side. Then, muffled, “I hoped you wouldn’t notice, asshole.” 

Futaba was laughing along with Ryuji, though nudged the phone towards him once more. “No, get this, look at his bag.”

  
  
Ryuji’s eyes trailed down to the blurry bag thrown over high-school Akira’s shoulders. The outline of a cat head sticking out of his was unmistakable. “You brought your fuckin’ cat to school?”

  
  
Akira groaned in embarrassment again, and tilted his head up at Ryuji just enough so his words weren’t dampened in Ryuji’s sweater. “Mona was just a baby, I couldn’t leave him alone at home!”

  
  
He was giving Ryuji what Ryuji recognized as puppy dog eyes and its effect was immediate. Overcome with the sudden urge to squeeze the life out of the guy, Ryuji only tightened the arm he had around Akira’s shoulders and chuckled. What a sweetie. 

Ann finally succeeded in wrestling herself out of the grip Shiho had on her and ran over to pluck the phone out of Futaba’s hand. Futaba made an attempt to grab it back, but Ann had the advantage of height and was scrolling through it above her head as Futaba jumped at her. 

“Got it!” Ann shouted a little too loudly, and gave the phone back to Ryuji. 

He had a feeling that Futaba was going to make another grab for it and looked over the picture quickly. 

Somehow it was even better than the last. This one was of what looked to be Futaba and Akira this time, except Futaba’s bright red hair was black, and her and Akira resembled siblings more than ever. The picture was taken too far away for Ryuji to get a look at either of their faces, but he could make out the silver chains hanging off Akira’s hips, and the thick boots that Futaba had on. 

“Don’t tell me you guys had your emo phase together,” he deadpanned, barely restraining his laughter. 

It was Futaba’s turn to look embarrassed now, thoroughly getting a taste of her own medicine. Akira defended, “It comes with being a sheltered country kid!”

  
  
Not like Ryuji could argue against that. He laughed again as Futaba finally grabbed her phone back and lightheartedly warned that she would bring out the big guns if they didn’t stop exposing each other now, and as badly as Ryuji wanted to see what the big guns were, everyone had called a truce and waved their white flags. 

It wasn’t until a couple more glasses of wine later that Ryuji was introduced to a new tradition, albeit only limited to those in the room. 

“Gift time!” Haru was the one to announce it. 

Akira explained it to Ryuji. “We usually exchange a gift with one person here on Christmas Eve. Makes hanging out more fun.”

  
  
“Shit. I mean, I only got ya a gift, I wasn’t sure if I shoulda… y’know, for everyone else.” 

  
  
“No worries, no one really expected you to. _New_ _guy_ ,” Akira teased. 

Ryuji sat back and watched as the group of friends gave their gift to one person. Yusuke had apparently traveled out of town just to go to a market and buy Ann out of season strawberries, whereas Ann bought Makoto a buchimaru stationery set that the woman grew red over, but thanked her profusely nonetheless. Ryuji enjoyed just being there, in the warm atmosphere they had created. A part of him expected to feel left out, but admittedly he only felt a little bit of envy. He tried not to think of home while he was having fun, but he was reminded of the empty apartment waiting for him when he had to go back. 

But it all left his mind when, just as they had all finished, Haru spoke up and said she had something for Ryuji. 

Ryuji went a little stiff when she said so. “You didn’t hafta…”

  
  
“I wanted to, though,” she smiled, and Ryuji was struck once more about the sheer kindness of some people. He caught the small wrapped package she tossed to him, contemplating opening it carefully before he looked at the mountain of crumpled wrapping paper growing on the coffee table, and ripped right into it. 

Gloves. Knit gloves. 

“I noticed you never had any when seeing you around. I always knit something for everyone, and gloves aren’t too difficult…” Haru quickly explained, sounding more excited than her usual mellow self. 

  
  
Ryuji’s mouth was completely dry as he looked down at the gloves. They were black, pretty simple, but somehow the softness things Ryuji had ever felt. He began to pull them on immediately, marveling at the snug fit around his fingers. 

“Do you not like them? I just approximated the size, I wasn’t sure…”

  
  
Ryuji realized he hadn’t said anything and sputtered out, “No! No, wow, they’re great! I just… didn’t expect it. Th-thanks, Haru.” 

Haru hummed to herself, and it seemed that they were going to leave it at that. 

Ryuji was still a little awestruck, but took the gloves off and neatly placed them on the table to take upstairs later. 

It was better late than never. 

  
  


♨

Ryuji finished writing the report. 

It took him a couple hours of grinding through it, using every bit of knowledge he gained from working at the company to make something he knew would be satisfactory in their eyes, but he did it. He had an entire plan, which coincided with telling Akira the truth before he left for Tokyo again, but… not yet. 

He added the final touches that very evening, after he called it quits for the night and let the friends have some time to themselves without an outsider intruding. They assured him it was fine, that they liked having them there, but Ryuji figured it was the polite thing to do. They had obviously known each other for longer than they did Ryuji, so the least he could do is let them have Akira to themselves for a couple of hours to make up for the days Ryuji had stolen him away. 

He added the finishing touches onto the report since he had the time. It looked like more of a proposal than a report, but… that was the goal. 

Ryuji had a plan. 

He gave it one last look over and deemed it, finally, finished. He threw his hands up in silent celebration, before he left his laptop on the bed and decided to hop into the shower before he went to sleep. 

And while guilt still plagued him, Ryuji felt better about the sudden turn of events. Maybe it was how a small little town like Inaba could somehow keep trucking along for as long as it did, or just its too-kind residents making him feel fuzzy on the inside. Maybe it was the ghost of Akira’s arms around his waist, warm touch lingering since Akira unraveled himself from Ryuji. 

Most importantly, it was the first Christmas Eve that Ryuji had spent happy. Not just content, or disinterested. Honest to god _happy_ — happy with the ridiculous amount of decorations everywhere he looked, with the same three Christmas song covers that played on the radio in the common area. He could have lived feeling like that forever. Maybe Christmas in July was justified. (Or, maybe not. He wasn’t sure how far he was going to push it). 

In a good mood, Ryuji got ready for bed in the bathroom after his shower. Everything felt like it was falling into place. 

Until. 

“Hey, Ryuji! Everyone downstairs wants to see if you’re awake, the storm outside got worse and everyone’s staying for the night.”

  
  
Akira’s voice, muffled through the bathroom door. Which only meant he was in Ryuji’s room. 

Ryuji wouldn’t have panicked, but he couldn’t remember if he left his laptop on the bed. Did he put it away? He must have— 

“Hey, what’s…” 

Akira’s voice came again, though it trailed off. Ryuji could hear the bed springs creak through the door, and never in his life did he think he’d moved so quickly to put on his clothes. All it would have taken was a glance at the laptop, at the company sticker under the keyboard-- just a swipe over the trackpad to bring the laptops screen back to life, to piece it all together. A glance at the title, **Inaba Town Inn, Status: Pending** , to realize what Ryuji’s true intentions were. 

Ryuji swung the door open as soon as he pulled a shirt over his head to Akira sitting on the bed, laptop screen on and next to him. His eyes swept over the screen, but he slowly lifted his head up to meet Ryuji’s wide gaze as soon as the door swung open. 

“Ryuji… what’s this?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas eve to those who celebrate it! if not, merry december 24th


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas to those who celebrate! and to those who don't, or for those who don't have the best relationship with the holiday season or don't feel the spirit, i hope you're taking care of yourself. despite not celebrating this christmas i still loved uploading this fic (even if it only slightly kicked my ass)
> 
> have a happy holiday, or a happy december 25th :-)

“It’s not what it looks like.” 

“It’s  _ not  _ what it  _ looks like _ ?” Akira repeated, scoffing back at Ryuji. His previously cuddly demeanor was nowhere to be seen, and for the first time Ryuji saw him without a smile on his face.  Akira’s shoulders began to shake, and he looked  scary  with his eyes downcast, turned down into a harsh glare. 

Before Ryuji could get another word, Akira was leaving. Running out the door. 

_ Done with him.  _

It wasn’t that easy to get rid of him, though. Ryuji followed just as quickly, stumbling through the door to see the shadow of Akira already running down the stairs. 

Ryuji was barely at the banister by the time Akira was stomping towards the door. Everyone downstairs had raised their heads at the commotion, overlapping voices asking what happened, if Akira was okay, _what did Ryuji do._

“I can explain!” Ryuji answered a little too loudly, to the questioning faces of Akira’s friends, but more importantly to Akira. 

Akira whirled around, entirely red in the face. “What?!” he exploded, asking but not waiting for a response. “Were you just gonna lie to me about everything? No girlfriend, fake trip? You came here to fucking _investigate_ me?!” 

Ryuji did his best to defend himself. “I-I didn’t lie when I said I liked spending time with you, though! Just— I don’t expect you to forgive me, but things got carried away! Look at my position!”

  
  
Akira glared at him coldly, zipping up his coat as he prepared to go outside. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” 

“Listen, ‘Kira—” Ryuji tried. 

  
  
“ _ Don’t _ .”

It iced Ryuji’s heart over: a final, frigid warning. 

Akira turned around once more, shakily shoving his feet into his boots at the entrance before leaving into the cold of the night without a final glance back. He ignored all the warnings from his friends telling him that it was dangerous to leave in the middle of the storm, and the door slammed shut. 

Ryuji wasn’t in the clear though. Ann was the first one to round onto him, keeping her distance but looking almost as angry as Akira did. Almost. 

“What the fuck did you do?” she asked harshly, and Ryuji had to stop himself from cowering at her gaze. 

“Nothing!” he threw his hands up, but… no, he definitely did something. “I just… let me talk, okay? I need like two seconds to explain.” 

  
  
Ryuji swept over the rest of the group, all staring at him with a mix of confusion, anger, all fueled with exasperated expectation. It hurt to meet Ann’s eyes again the most, though. 

“I… I wasn’t just here randomly, alright? I work for the company that owns the inn, a-and they sent me here to write a report on the place. Futaba wiped our files, and… they wanted to make some final cuts before the year ended.” 

The silence was deafening. Ryuji turned his eyes to the floor. He didn’t think he could have looked any of them in the eye even if he wanted to. If the guilt wasn’t bad before, it was swinging in full force in his gut, settling uncomfortably in his head. 

Haru was the one to speak up first. 

“I must confess… I knew from the moment you walked in.”

Ryuji’s eyes widened on their own accord. “...What?” 

  
  
“I knew,” Haru repeated, then glanced at Makoto. “Your work bag is the same one we use across all companies, even without a logo. I told Mako-chan as soon as I realized.”

  
  
“But…” Ryuji furrowed his brows, now more confused than anything. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

  
  
Makoto spoke up, stepping up next to Haru. “We wanted to let you own up to it on your own. Suffice to say, um, this isn’t how we expected it to go.” 

“You don’t—” Ryuji cut himself off with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m going after him.” 

“No you’re not,” Ann interjected. 

“Yeah,” Shiho continued for her, looking dead serious. “You lied to him, to  _ us _ , this entire time. What makes you think you can try and make it better? You’ve… You’ve done enough damage.” 

  
  
Ryuji took another glance around. The guilt crushed him more so than the anxious adrenaline of being caught. Everything had piled up, run away from him for far longer than he meant it to, and he was finally paying the consequences of his actions. 

But it didn’t change the feelings that had developed for Akira, or every moment that had transpired between them. It didn’t erase the fact that they had kissed and it felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, that Akira’s arms were warmer than any blanket Ryuji had ever owned, that Akira took him sledding just for the hell of it. Ryuji’s breath still hitched every time Akira smiled at him. 

He whirled around anyways, taking the stairs up to the second floor two at a time so he could bound into his room. 

Ryuji had a plan.  They _needed_ to understand that . 

❄❄❄

Despite more warnings he received to not try going outside because he’ll get frostbite on top of making the situation worse, Ryuji refused to hear it. He hadn’t bothered to put on more than his jeans, sweater, and coat either, though he put on the gloves Haru gave him for good measure. There wasn’t time for anything else. 

And under his coat were two things, held tightly against his chest. 

The protests led him out the door, but he’d tuned it out the moment he stumbled down the stairs and made a beeline for the exit. 

He could barely see outside. The snow completely swathed over his vision; He and his hand were separated by a layer of white when he stuck it out in front of him to test his vision. 

Nevermind that it was mind-numbingly frigid. 

But Ryuji only had one destination in mind, even though the only time he’d been taken to it was when he was flitting in and out of ice-water induced faintness. He could make out the direction to go in by using the outside of the inn to navigate through his squinted eyes, but he was on his own when his feet sunk into fresh snow over grass instead of concrete. 

He used the vague silhouette of the trees around him to navigate, otherwise unable to utilize a single other one of his senses. Wind roared in his ears, far louder than when he was sledding with Akira. Ryuji used an arm to shield his eyes from the worst of the snow, but it wasn’t until shadowed trees ceased to frame his vision that he realized he’d ended up in the same hill clearing that Akira took him to a couple of days ago. 

Ryuji felt like an explorer traversing the icy mountains as he made his way down the hill and to the right where he knew Akira's cabin would be, though he figured that fighting a blizzard wasn’t too far from what explorers did. 

And when a square, lit up window was his light at the end of the tunnel, Ryuji knew he found his destination. 

He could barely make out the cabin from the snow, but the rectangle of light in the door was enough to send him in the right direction. Somehow he could feel the warmth radiating from the cabin, even though that must have been his mind playing tricks on him. A mirage. But he hobbled over through the snow and to the front of the door, pointedly ignoring how his sneakers and the fabric around his calves had completely soaked through. If he stayed outside any longer they would freeze into ice completely. 

He hesitated, then knocked. 

Ryuji worried that Akira wouldn’t hear it over the wind roaring outside and lifted his hand to knock again, but the door swung open and there stood Akira, looking significantly more rumpled than before. 

No glasses. Puffy red eyes. A set of old looking pajamas. 

But Ryuji didn’t have time to observe any further. Akira was pulling him inside by the arm immediately, into the cozy warmth of the cabin before snow could breach inside. 

“You dumbass, oh my god,” Akira mumbled in exasperaiton. “Why would you go out, you’re gonna get sick— It’s so cold,  _ Christ _ .” 

Ryuji let himself be ushered inside after he pulled off his soaked jacket and shoes to leave them by the door. At his chest he held the two things he’d been holding to himself on his way there.

Then Akira pulled him by the arm and all but pushed him to sit on one end of the couch, followed by him sitting on the other end. 

Ouch. Distance. 

Ryuji dropped his things in his lap: His laptop, and a wrapped Christmas gift. 

Akira heavily sighed before finally slumping back into the couch cushions, refusing to face Ryuji and instead stared into the fire. “What?”

  
  
He said it so there was no room for pleasantries, no needless discussion. Ryuji knew he didn’t deserve it regardless. 

“I got ya this,” he said anyways, tentatively sticking out the gift first. “I was gonna give it to ya on Christmas, but… y’know.” 

  
  
The air was painfully awkward as Ryuji trailed off, but it was evident Akira wasn’t going to add onto the conversation. 

But Akira took the present with a sigh, ripping into it from the side. He pulled it out of its haphazard wrapping as soon as he made a decent sized hole, and… 

“A mug,” he simply stated, holding the mug out in front of him to observe it in the fire light. It was fairly simple, with a cat painted onto the outside of the porcelain, and its tail wrapped around the handle. 

“I saw yours was chipped. I bet ya have more, but… I saw this one at the souvenir shop. Thought of ya,” Ryuji offered as an explanation. He nervously played with his fingers as Akira turned the mug over in his hand, and finally put it down on his leg. 

“It’s nice, but… you can’t buy my affections back.”

  
  
“I know,” Ryuji immediately answered, though his moved a scooch closer to Akira and thumbed the edge of his laptop in his hands. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I can’t tell ya enough— Listen, I’ll be outta your hair and outta Inaba on the twenty sixth, but… you can kick me out after you read this.” 

He opened his laptop, which immediately whirred up to the report, offending title in bold at the top. 

“Ryuji,” Akira’s voice broke, and with that went Ryuji’s spirit. “I can’t read about how I'm failing. Y-You… I thought…” he sighed again. “Just tell me you’re shutting down, and I’ll let you sleep on the couch until the blizzard passes. I can’t do anymore heartbreak tonight.” 

  
  
“No, it’s not—” Ryuji began, but he knew his way with words was awful. He scooted right next to Akira, careful so they wouldn’t touch but still close enough to put the laptop in Akira’s lap. “Just read it. Out loud.” 

Akira looked apprehensive but forced his gaze down onto the screen. He muttered, “ _Inaba Town Inn— Status, pending_. Okay. That all?” 

  
  
“Go on,” Ryuji goaded. 

“Fine. Uh, here.  _ The Inaba Town Inn, while charming, is void of visitors _ ... Wow. Thanks.” He was clearly unimpressed, further curling in on himself as he looked at Ryuji with furrowed brows. 

  
  
“C’mon, there’s more.” 

  
  
“ _ The... The problem doesn’t lie in how its run, but rather how we as a company handles our advertisement. I have drafted up a proposal to up company advertising and redesign the website to promote our smaller locations, a decision that would raise our quarterly numbers overall.  _ Ryuji, what…” 

  
  
Akira scrolled through the rest of the report, flitting past all 20 pages of it. Ryuji had ran the numbers, made the charts and calculated the predictions with the lowest margin of error. He might not have been good at math in high school, but numbers are what he came to be good at come beginning to work at the company. He had done similar reports, albeit on a much smaller scale, and this was his biggest project yet. 

He said he had a plan, after all. 

“Read the last paragraph,” Ryuji whispered, barely breaching Akira’s weighty silence as his eyes raked over a few of the charts calculating potential growth. 

“ _ The Inaba Town Inn, _ ” Akira whispered back, though his voice shook as much as his shoulders did. “ _ Is a wonderful country inn that can round out the company and stand alongside our modern locations if given the proper care. In addition, the… the writer of this review would like to ask the own of this facility to go… on an official date with him.”  _

The air was thick. 

“I was gonna take that part out later…” Ryuji awkwardly mumbled, but before he could say anything else, Akira turned and took Ryuji’s face in his hands, leaning forward. 

And before he could kiss him, he rested their foreheads together. 

“I can’t believe you,” he breathed. The words barely ghosted over Ryuji’s lips; They still sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I know it might not be enough for you to forgive me, but,” Ryuji said, equally as quiet. “I needed to try. I don’t want this to end here, Akira. I-I never expected to fall for you. I didn’t wanna lie, either, I just… things ran away from me.” 

  
  
His grip tightened from where he rested them on Akira’s shoulders, a safe place to put them, he decided. Akira’s hands on either size of his face squeezed a little harder. 

Ryuji risked a glance upwards, right into Akira’s stormy gaze, slightly blurred by their proximity. Then he moved back slightly to look up at the clock on the wall past Akira’s head. 

It was past midnight. 

“Look at the time,” he dryly laughed, though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Akira. Merry Christmas, ‘Kira.” 

  
  
Akira chuckled as well, flitting his own glance down at Ryuji’s lips. “Your teeth are chattering, Ryuji. C’mere.” 

And Ryuji didn’t have to worry about the cold for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew i feel euphoric finishing this. ill probably end up going back and polish some things up because most of this was written in a month, but i hope anyone reading this enjoyed!!! i really enjoyed writing it, i love these two
> 
> ALSO!!! this work is part of a series,,, be on the lookout for a bonus chapter in a separate work on new years day 👀👀👀

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [twitter](https://twitter.com/cellwright)!


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